


For Auld Lang Syne II: A Cup of Kindness

by Cybele2013



Series: For Auld Lang Syne [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: Epilogue Compliant, Infidelity, Kink, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 62,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybele2013/pseuds/Cybele2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is having problems coming to terms with adulthood.  He calls on the only person in the world he can talk to about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Toluene for beta reading and for generally putting up with my insecurity.

30 June, 1999

Dear HBP,

You’ll be happy to hear that I’ve done well enough on my NEWTS to get into the Auror training program. Between you and me, I think I could have failed all of them and still got in, but it’s good to know that I earned my place there. I’m still not sure it’s what I want to do, but as I have no other ideas, it’s as good a fate as any.

Ginny has been drafted by the Holyhead Harpies. She’s really chuffed. She’ll be touring quite a lot, so we’ll only see each other off season. I’ll be pretty busy anyway with training. Ron will be with me as well, so it should be great.

Draco seems to have done all right, but things are still pretty bad for him with his dad being in prison. I don’t have as much information as you might like because, frankly, he’s still a twat. The best that can be said for him is that instead of an arrogant, privileged twat, he’s now just a sullen, bitter twat.

I’m enclosing a few articles from the Prophet that I’ve collected over the last few months regarding the Death Eater trials. There’s another piece about you that you might find amusing at least. It seems that heroism has a new name. Severus Snape. Our. New. Celebrity.

I wonder how your travels are going and if you’re any closer to finding the answers you’re looking for. I wanted to thank you again for the memory. After having seen my father so many times at his worst, it was reassuring to see that he had a better side.

I received your postcard from Prague. It looks like a nice city. Maybe I’ll get a chance to travel someday as well, but probably not until after the training. Who knows? Maybe I’ll go skiing again.

I hope you’re well, wherever you are tonight.

Sincerely,

Harry

-o-o-

9 January, 2000

Dear HBP,

Happy New Year. I think you should know that I am officially doomed to think of you at midnight on New Year’s Eve for the rest of my life. I wonder where you celebrated the coming of the new millennium. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and I went to London to the Millennium Dome. All the Muggles were in a frenzy to know if the world would end owing to some bug in their computer system. They’ve been talking of nothing else for the past year and then, suddenly at midnight... Nothing happened. Nothing at all. It was all very anticlimactic.

I can’t really picture you among Muggles. It was strange enough to see you in Muggle clothes last year. You’re much less intimidating without your robes. Or maybe it has something to do with being outside of Hogwarts. Or being dead (haha).

Training starts back up tomorrow, so I should be going to bed now. I really hope you’re well. If you can manage to send more than a postcard, I’d like some real news from you (for auld lang syne).

Happy birthday, by the way.

Sincerely,

Harry

-o-o-

28 February 2000

Harry,

I’m in India. Or on another planet. That may very well be the same thing.

I had met a backpacker on my travels through Thailand who told me that India was the place on earth where Heaven and Hell meet. He wasn’t wrong. Here you see supreme beauty juxtaposed with absolute desolation. They are a friendly and enthusiastic people, if a bit aggressively so. My patience and need for personal space have been continuously challenged, to say the least. I wasn’t sure I would live through the first three months without hexing the lot of them. But I’m coping better now.

The new millennium, for the record, doesn’t start until 2001. The celebrations for the year 2000 (how we do like to celebrate round numbers) were rather disastrous for me. I was with a mass of people in a makeshift club that was really just a raised platform on stilts when the whole thing collapsed. I didn’t come out as bad as some, but I was injured nevertheless. Last time I saw you, I told you that fate has a way of nudging us onto our paths. Well, let’s just say I was rather brutally nudged.

I’ll be spending some time here before moving on. The food is lovely and they know how to brew a cup of tea.

I hope you are well. I’d tell you to send my regards to the rest of Britain, but I’d really rather you didn’t.

Take care,

Hakesh Badri Prince

-o-o-

16 March 2000

Dear Hakesh (!),

I hope you’re all right after your fall and that you’re not stuck in India because you’re too injured to go anywhere else. 

For the record, I know when the new millennium starts. But as the entire world called the celebration the millennium celebration, I didn’t think to belabour the point.

I’m really enjoying training this term, as we seem to be getting away from pure theory and starting on practical work. You’ll be surprised to know that I’m doing rather well at potions. The mind-clearing thing you taught me has really helped to stay focussed on the work we need to do here. I’ve elected to have another go at Occlumency as well, although I still have problems with the thought control part of things.

I still don’t know if I want to be an Auror, but I like the training. Strangely enough, Defence is the class I like the least. It’s really awkward to have everyone expect you to be so brilliant at it all. I’m not too bad off, really, but given Hogwarts’ track record for defence preparation, I’m not as well off I think I could have been. People just don’t seem to want to understand that my defeat of Voldemort was sort of a one- off. I defeated him with a spell you taught us in duelling club in my second year, for fuck’s sake. If it weren’t for the issue with the wands, for the protection of my mum, I’d have died.

I don’t mean to whinge. Everything is going okay really.

I’m enclosing more press clippings. The ministry is being slowly transformed by Shacklebolt. He’s done a fantastic job of bringing everything back together and trying to build a better government. I wish you could be here to see it. 

I really hope this letter finds you in one piece. Try and stay away from makeshift clubs on stilts. I tried to send Britain your regards, but they didn’t know anyone by the name of Hakesh Badri Prince.

Regards,

Harry

-o-o-

27 October 2000

_On the bright day of Diwali_  
May the blessings of Lord Ganesh  
And Goddess Laxmi shower on you  
Bliss and joy on this Diwali! 

_Shubh Diwali!_

(It’s pissing down bliss. And me without an umbrella.)

Haady Badal Prince

-o-o-

23 December 2000

_“And she shalt bring forth a son, and thou shalt name him JESUS; for he shalt save his people from their sins (Matthew 1.21)_

_May the miracle of Christmas touch your life!”_

Haady, I’m considering a name change. What do you think?

Jesus, well and truly touched.

-o-o-

12 November 2001

Harry, or was it Jesus?

I’ve left India where I spent 18 months earning qualifications as a sort of Muggle healer. I managed to put aside a fair amount of money during my time as a teacher, and inherited a bit from our old friend for services rendered, but it will not last forever. I’m not yet at retirement age, not even by Muggle standards. It occurred to me that if I’m to make a life for myself, I will have to work.

I somehow found myself in that most unlikely of places: America. I am still not sure how it happened but I suspect it had something to do with an ill-advised mix of alcohol and libido. The Americans were at first reluctant to acknowledge my Indian qualifications, but I used my natural charm (read: Confundus charm) to persuade them. I still had to take a few more courses, but managed to get my accreditation as a Doctor of Naturopathy.

Of course, the state in which I have settled cares sod all for accreditations in this particular field, so I needn’t have bothered. 

Travelling is a humbling exercise. You realise that the truths you hold so close to your heart fall apart when you find yourself confronted with a radically different context. Muggles continue to astonish me. The things they accomplish with pure science are astounding. It has shown me how ignorant we of the Wizarding world really are about the way things work. It’s not a value judgment. Wizards do not need to understand why a light bulb shines when we flick a switch. With the wave of our wand, we can generate that which Muggles have had to discover through experiment. They really are a remarkable race.  
Of course, they have their more annoying traits as well. I think I worked through my culture shock a long time ago, however. Or perhaps I’ve just fallen into a permanent state of shock that I hardly recall what normal looks like anymore. I am pleased to say that over the last few years I have become quite proficient in the Muggle way of doing things. Your mother, I think, would have been pleased.

The place where I am staying currently is teeming with so-called spiritualists (see annoying traits above). Hippies and new age quacks who believe so strongly in the power of the mind that they manage magic by sheer will. It isn’t an exact science and their success rates are laughable, but they tend to be good people, if disastrously misguided.

I have decided to settle here for the time being. I’ve managed to get a job in a “New Age” shop that sells quartz and other “stones of power” to cater to the naive masses. Every now and again someone comes in looking for something with healing power and I surreptitiously heal whatever ailment they have while selling them whatever stone or herb they’re after. They leave happy in their faith and better off for their purchase.

It is, as the Americans like to say, a win-win situation.

As keeping a low profile is absolutely necessary, I should appreciate if you would send any future correspondence by Muggle post to the post office box listed below. 

Yours,

Henry Bernard Prince

-o-o-

13 December 2001

Henry? Really?

I can’t imagine a name less appropriate than that. 

But then, I would never have pictured you in America either. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t know you at all. You’re probably not surprised, but I admit that I am. There are few people in this world whose head I have visited and I have spent more time in yours than is healthy. And for all that, you are still a mystery.

I’m enclosing some clippings that might interest you. One of which is the latest development in my life. Ginny and I are getting married! It will be a long engagement, as she is still really busy with the Harpies and I still need to finish training. She’s doing really well. She doesn’t get home very often, but I have a lot going on with my studies, so it’s probably for the best.

I’ll be going back to the chalet on Boxing Day for a bit of skiing. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me. I’m getting pretty good at it. I think I’ll take on my first black run this year.

Maybe I’ll see you there.

Best regards,

Harry Bloody Potter

-o-o-

1 August 2002

Hey.

Well, I’ve finished. I’m an officially qualified Auror. I will start work in a week. 

I’m not sure how I feel about it all. I enjoyed training to become an Auror, but I’m still not sure it’s what I want to do. I’m still waiting for my own path to be clear. Maybe I’m already on it.

I haven’t heard from you in awhile. I hope the Americans haven’t eaten you.

Regards,

Harry

-o-o-

13 December 2002

Dear Henry or Horace, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days,

We made a deal, mate. I hear from you once a year or I come looking. You know I’ll do it. 

I’m enclosing your Christmas present. It’s a pocket penseive. Hermione gave me one of these the last year I was in school. It’s come in very handy over the years. I hope you like it. I’m also giving you back your memories. It’s not really a gift as they’re already yours.

Things are a bit tense over here. Work is OK, but Gin and I aren’t getting on very well. What little time we spend together is spent fighting. I suspect she’s having an affair. She suspects I’m only with her for her family. 

Sometimes I wonder if she’s right.

I don’t know why I’m writing this, except that, well, dead men tell no secrets. 

I hope you’re well. Please write.

Regards,

Harry

-o-o-

15 January 2003

Dear Harry,

If you show up at my door, I shall have to hex you. This would be rather inconvenient to the low profile I’m maintaining.

I haven’t kept up my end of the bargain. My only excuse is that I’ve been incredibly busy. I’ve opened up a shop to sell herbs and tinctures (potions, in the real world) that I produce myself from my (quite impressive, if I may say so) garden. On the side, I’m putting my accreditation (for whatever it’s worth) to good use and taking in patients on referral. 

I am sorry to hear about you and Miss Weasley. I myself have always been rather suspect of those who claim to find true love before completing adolescence. I suspect that doesn’t make you feel better, but really, you hardly knew who you were the last time I saw you. How could you possibly know who you wanted to be with for the rest of your life? Given your proximity to the rest of the Weasleys, you’ve practically made it impossible to extricate yourself from this relationship without alienating the only family you have ever known.

Once more, Harry, you find yourself in quite the impossible situation. I have no advice for you. Whatever happens, you’ll survive. You’re very good at that.

Take care,

Horatio Bathet Prescott

-o-o-

23 December 2003

Happy Christmas, you bastard.

I was a bit angry with you after your last letter. But then I realised that it’s pointless to be angry with a rose for being prickly. So I decided to forgive you. I’m sure you’ll sleep better at night knowing that.

Life here hasn’t changed much since I last wrote. My job is getting more interesting now that they’re letting us do more than paperwork. I had a surreal experience of going back to Hogwarts in October to give a talk on Defence. It turned out to be one of those Meet Harry Potter affairs that make my skin crawl. But the kids liked it, I suppose. 

The Defence professor that took up after the war, Professor Ninepenny, is still there, if you can believe it. I think even you would have to agree that he’s actually competent in the subject. 

I’ll be going back to the chalet soon. I’ve been looking forward to it since I left last year. It’s really great to just disappear if only for a week or so. To talk to no one in particular and just be alone. I don’t have much opportunity for that. 

Of course, if you should happen to show up, I won’t be too disappointed.

I hope you’re well.

Regards,

Harry

-o-o-

30 November 2004

Hey,

I’ll be at the chalet on Boxing Day, staying through the New Year. I can’t force you to come, but I’m not above begging. I’d like to see you, Severus. 

Please.

Pretty please.

Harry, on his knees.


	2. Reunion

Harry had settled into what he considered to be his room and now sat and watched the tea steep. He’d been watching it for twenty minutes and now the tea would likely be strong enough to suit Hagrid’s tastes. It didn’t matter as his stomach wasn’t likely to accept the tea anyway, swirling as it was with nervous anticipation.

He couldn’t say why he was nervous. Snape wasn’t going to come. He never did. Despite years of veiled invitations and hinting that Harry would be at the chalet, he inevitably spent his time there alone. 

It wasn’t all bad. He had so little time to himself, what with work and the constant invitations from various parts of the Weasley tribe. This place belonged to him. Everyone wondered at his yearly trips to Switzerland. They stopped trying to join him after he insisted that really, this was his necessary retreat. His one time of the year to sit back and just be... morose and bitter.

This year, however, was different. His relationship with Ginny was increasingly complicated. They fought constantly, and when they weren’t fighting they were making up. The sex, at least, hadn’t failed them. They couldn’t talk anymore, but they had angry sex down to a fine art.

Even that, now, was waning. It was a little less satisfying. A little less passionate. They were merely going through the motions. Much as he went through the motions with everything else in his life. At dinners with Molly and Arthur, he was forever the future son-in-law. With Bill and Fleur, he was the good brother-in-law. With George and Rachel, he was the good friend and investor to the joke empire. Even with Ron and Hermione, Harry felt he was just filling the role of third wheel.  
At work he was Potter, defeater of Voldemort and constant advocate for change. He’d done well and was already leading the team for Muggle-related crimes. Things were good.

Except they weren’t. And the cracks in the surface were starting to spread. He just felt profoundly dissatisfied and frustrated that he couldn’t even say why. Of course, he blamed it on Ginny. But he wondered if it wasn’t he who was the problem.

And so, like the idiot that he kept proving himself to be, he’d turned to the one person he could count on to smack him out of it. Snape was his one source of candour. Someone who could put things into a painfully clear perspective.

Except that he could not really count on Snape to play his role. Or to show up for the show at all.

Harry sighed and poured the ruined tea down the drain. He refilled it with hot water and set it again to steep.  
He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the front door opening. His heart beat thunderously in his chest. He listened to the sound of boots being removed and the swishing of a winter coat being hung up as he took a second mug down. The greeting that had waited on his tongue died at the sight of the man walking into the room.

If he didn’t know for certain that it couldn’t be anyone but Snape, he wouldn’t have believed that the man standing there now was the man he’d grown up despising. This man had filled out nicely from the gaunt, sallow man he’d known before. Snape’s black hair was cut just below his cheek bones. His skin was nicely olive toned as though the man had finally got out into the sun. He filled his tight-fitting jumper well. “You look...” the sentence died. He looked different. Fantastic. “Great,” Harry admitted. He recovered from his shock long enough to add. “The afterlife has been good to you.”

Snape smirked and at that moment, Harry knew that he was his Potions master. “You look exhausted,” the other man countered. “Is that tea?”

Harry busied himself pouring the tea, adding milk to his own and two sugars for Snape. “It’s really good to see you. I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, when they’d settled at the table.

“After such a heartfelt plea? How could I resist?” Snape lifted his mug to his nose and breathed deeply. He gave a low moan of yearning before sipping the scorching liquid. “You simply can’t get proper tea on that wretched continent,” he muttered. 

“I could always send you some.” 

Snape shook his head. “Wouldn’t be the same. I favour coffee over there,” he admitted. “Tea is something to be savoured in the company of those who appreciate its significance.”

Harry grinned. “I don’t know if I could live in a country that couldn’t produce a proper cuppa,” he said. It would be like life without warmth. Or sex.

“One adapts,” Snape droned. “Tea apparently doesn’t guarantee happiness,” he said with a pointed look.

Harry gave a weak smile and then stared into his cup accusingly. He suddenly regretted his hastily written letter to the man begging his presence. “You really do look great,” he said again, strategically rerouting the conversation. It was hard to come to terms with, really. He still wouldn’t win any beauty pageants. His nose was still exceedingly prominent. But the man looked healthful and rested. He looked at ease with himself.

It was a really good look for him.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. What am I doing here, Harry?”

“I just wanted to see you,” Harry said, irritated at feeling so suddenly unsure about himself. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake. “You’re a bastard,” he said. “And I just need that right now,” he finished lamely. He hoped his smile was sufficiently apologetic. 

Snape snorted. “Well then I shall be happy to oblige,” he said. And then smiled.

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’ve whitened your teeth,” he blurted out.

The man pursed his lips shut and narrowed his eyes defensively. “Americans are obsessive about teeth. I spent a great deal of my life in celibacy. If I had any chance of breaking that pattern, a certain amount of vanity was required.”

And suddenly, Snape and sex were in the same thought process again. Over the years, he’d come to terms with the inadvertent introduction to Snape’s adolescent sex life. Or rather, he’d managed not to think too much about it. “Fair enough,” Harry said, trying desperately to look unaffected. “I hear American women go mad for English accents,” he smiled and then looked to gauge Snape’s reaction. He was disappointed.

“I’ve heard the same,” the man said with a sideways smile. He didn’t bother elaborating and Harry couldn’t gather the courage required to ask if the same went for American men. The memory of the man’s breathless, “gods” echoed through Harry’s head. 

“So you’re dating, then?” Harry asked innocently.

Severus shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d call it dating. I’ve somehow acquired a gaggle of meddlesome woman who are threatened at the prospect of a man who is happy to live alone.” He smiled somewhat fondly. “They repeatedly ignore my protests and set me up regularly.”

Harry was doing his best to reconcile this information with the man he’d known. It was nigh on impossible. His struggle must have been apparent because Snape laughed after a moment. “This may come as a shock, Harry, but I am human. And while I am forever astonished by it, there are certain people who manage to find me attractive.”

Harry shook his head and laughed at his own immaturity. “I know you’re human. And I’m not surprised that people find you attractive.” Harry reviewed his statement and thought he might die from the heat rising to his face. “Do you want a drink?” He asked rather quickly. He looked at the mug of tea in his hands. “I mean something... with significantly more alcohol?” He didn’t wait for a response before pulling his wand and summoning the firewhisky he’d brought along.

Severus gave him a long look before summoning glasses. “I have ways of working out what’s bothering you, Potter,” he said ominously. “How’s your Occlumency coming along?”

Harry’s mouth fell open, stunned. It took him a moment to realise that he was an accomplished Auror and that his Occlumency was coming along just fine, thanks. “Nothing’s bothering me,” he said. “Well, a part from the usual shite. Nothing out of the ordinary.” He didn’t quite lie. He wasn’t bothered by the prospect that Snape might or might not sleep with men. It was rather his imagination’s tendency to bombard him with potential images of the man in the act.

“I don’t think I ever wrote to thank you for the Penseive,” Severus said. Harry reviewed the barriers on his mind. Everything seemed to be working properly.

“I hope you liked it,” he said in response. 

“I did. And I was able to review the memory I gave you with it.” Severus’ eyes bored into Harry’s. Harry felt himself blush again. Snape smirked smugly. “I hadn’t had the chance to edit it before giving it to you. I suppose I should apologise if it’s somehow traumatised you.”

“Traumatised,” Harry scoffed. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen someone get propositioned.” He tried for a disaffected air. “I just hadn’t realised that you... I mean I’d thought you liked my mum,” he said.

“Are the two mutually exclusive?” Severus asked, lifting an eyebrow. “My feelings for Lily had nothing to do with sex, Potter. And my feelings for Rosier had nothing to do with love.”

“We really don’t have to talk about this. Especially not if it makes you start calling me Potter again.” Harry offered over a glass of whisky. 

Severus leaned back in his chair and lifted the glass to the light to see the little tongues of flames shimmering there. “Trying to get me pissed?”

Harry laughed. “No. I’m trying to get me pissed. But I’ll be happy for the company.” He raised his glass to the man. “To oblivion,” he said before downing the contents in one go. He gave a violent shiver as the liquid scorched a trail to his stomach. He poured a second glass.

“Ah, yes. Oblivion. I knew her well,” Severus sighed and then took a modest sip from his own glass. “What are we forgetting today?”

Harry gave a crooked smile. “Life. The universe. Everything,” he said, waving dismissively.

Snape gave an amused grunt. “Or would it be Wife. The Universe. Everything?” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m not married yet. Not for another 10 months or so.”

“The event of the new millennium, I’m sure. I’ll not expect an invitation.” Snape finished his own glass and poured himself another, topping up Harry’s glass as well. “Still going through with it then?” he asked.

“I don’t know how not to,” Harry admitted. “I don’t even think she still wants to.”

“What do you want?”

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. “Always that question. I’m no closer to an answer. It’s like my life just goes on and on and I just... I dunno... react to what comes my way. I just play along.” He sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. Some part of him was conscious enough to warn him that he was baring his soul to Snape, of all people. But another part of him was looking forward to the abuse.

Counting on it, really.

“I have a theory.” Snape leaned forward with his elbows on the table. He balanced his head on his steepled fingers. “My theory is this. You are deliberately sabotaging your relationship with Miss Weasley because you’re too much of a coward to call it off yourself. 

“I’m not a coward,” Harry protested. “And why would I sabotage my relationship? I’ve been with her for seven years. She’s the only person I’ve ever loved. Your theory’s a load of rubbish.”

“It’s a lot to give up, isn’t it? A real family. Your best friend. “

Harry snorted in disgust. “You sound just like her.” It was the eternal argument between them. It never really concluded, but lingered in the background waiting to be rehashed randomly in the middle of a dispute about who should do the shopping or what film to go and see. “It’s not easy, you know. She’s never fucking there. And when she’s not on tour, she’s nags me about never wanting to go out, about working too much, about not picking my pants up off the floor or not shutting cupboard doors – “

“Well, that would be particularly irritating,” Snape interjected.

Harry pursed his lips together before remembering that he’d decided to forget about all of this. He drank deeply from his tumbler.

“Leave her.” Snape’s words severed the sullen silence.

Harry sighed. “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her. The media would have a field day and... everyone would hate me.”

“Everyone being the Weasleys,” Snape said smugly.

“I’m not with her because of her family. But I can’t leave her because of—“ 

“Her family,” Snape finished. “An interesting distinction.”

Harry closed his eyes. He knew the man was right. He knew that Ginny was right. And while he had all the reasons in the world for not conceding the point to Ginny, there was really no reason to keep up the lie with Snape. It was the very centre of the mess his life had become. “God, I’m a twat,” he whispered. 

Snape’s laugh filled the room. “Admitting it is the first step to recovery.” He looked Harry in the eye. “You have a choice: be happy with what you have, or go and find what makes you happy. I’m not going to pretend that this is simple. It took me 40 years.”

“So you’re happy then?” Harry knew the answer even before asking it. The man practically radiated contentment. It was the very essence of the drastic change to the man. 

Snape nodded. “I’d never believed it possible. For years I believed that happiness was dealt out in little moments. A perfectly brewed potion. An exquisitely cooked steak. A good shag. Happiness is bigger than that and far more precious.”

Harry smiled sadly. “If anyone deserves it, you do.”

“For the sake of my sanity, I try not to dwell on what I deserve. But I am profoundly grateful that fate saw it fit to give me this reprieve.”

Harry snorted. “I thought you don’t believe in fate,” he said. “Didn’t you just tell me that I needed to go and find happiness.”

Snape grinned. “And, fate willing, you’ll find what you’re looking for,” he said. “And probably in the most unlikely of places.”

“America?”

“Gods forbid.”

-o-o-

“I thought you said you could do black runs,” Severus grumbled as he deposited a broken Potter on the cloakroom floor. The boy went even paler, his face screwing up in pain. Snape removed his own ski boots before kneeling to remove Harry’s.

This was not how he’d envisaged spending his first proper holiday in over four years. To be fair, the skiing conditions were not particularly good. The piste had been pure ice. Perhaps if Severus had gone a little more slowly, the stupid boy wouldn’t have fallen so spectacularly.

“It hurts to breathe,” Harry managed to say between quick gasping breaths. “Broken ribs.”

Snape waved his wand, banishing the other man’s ski clothes, leaving him in his thermal underwear. “You’re lucky it’s not your neck. What were you thinking?” He couldn’t be certain if he was talking to Harry or to himself. He peeled up Harry’s t-shirt to reveal a developing bruise along his right side. Severus wandlessly cast a diagnostic spell. He could sense the crack in the boy’s ribs. His back had been popped out of alignment and trapped a nerve. There was quite a bit of inflammation around the shoulder. Thankfully, there was nothing he couldn’t easily fix.

He touched his wand to Harry’s side and incanted the healing spell for his ribs. Harry gasped.

“God, thank you,” he breathed, his fingers brushing over his repaired side. 

“It will be tender for a few days, but should heal well enough,” Snape said. “Are you okay to move?”

“Yeah,” the boy breathed as he rolled over to push himself to a sitting position. He winced slightly, but the colour was returning to his face. “Sorry.”

Severus decided not to comment on that. He couldn’t even be sure that the boy had anything to apologise for and so it was best to ignore it. He grabbed Harry’s arm, helping him to his feet and then to the lounge. 

“Get your kit off,” Snape said before transfiguring the dining table into a cushioned massage table. 

“What for?” Harry said, before complying. Or trying to comply, but he couldn’t move his arm very well. 

Severus sighed before going over to lend a hand. “I can’t fix what I can’t see,” he said, delicately pulling the tight fabric over one arm and then the boy’s head. He tried not to notice that the boy wasn’t quite a boy anymore.

Harry, for his part, was busy not noticing how strangely soft Snape’s touch was. The man disappeared behind him, his hands stroking down his back, his thumbs pressing gently along his spine before coming to rest on his hips. Harry tried to look back when he felt the waistband of his thermals being gently tugged to rest halfway down his arse. 

“Keep still and stand straight,” Snape ordered. “Have you injured your back before?” he asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. A few months ago. I er...” crashed my broomstick playing chicken with Ron. “Pulled something,” he decided. “But it sorted itself out.”

“You compensated for the pain by changing your posture. The way you walk. Do you still have pain?”  
Harry furrowed his brow. “Only sometimes. But nothing too serious.”

“Here,” Snape said, jabbing Harry in the arsecheek. 

“’m yeah,” Harry said awkwardly. Snape’s hands grabbed his hips again, thumbs meeting at his tailbone and then working their way up. They seemed to be generating a large amount of heat that was slowly rising to Harry’s head making him feel rather giddy. “What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.

“What I do,” Snape answered vaguely. “Lie face down on the table,” he instructed.

Harry laughed. “I’d love to, Severus. But I’m feeling a bit fragile at the moment,” he joked.

The look he received for his effort propelled him forward. He gingerly lowered himself down on the strange table, resting his face in the cushioned hole.

“This will be cold,” Severus warned. He wasn’t lying. Suddenly Harry felt like he’d just donned a coat of pure winter. Severus pushed him back down as he tried to jump away from the sensation. “Relax as much as possible. I need to get the swelling down before working on your back.”

“Can’t you just give me a bloody potion?” Harry said in between shivering.

“I suppose I might brew one if you remembered to bring your cauldron and the dozen or so ingredients that would be necessary. But I rather thought you’d like to sort this out before the end of your holiday.”

“How long d-do we have to d-d-do this,” Harry shivered. An eternity, it turned out. Harry was certain his blood would freeze by the time the sensation ended. The winter cloak was eventually replaced by the feeling of warmth, spreading through thawing him out. Harry gave a moan of appreciation.

He’d nearly fallen asleep when he felt the table come apart from under him and felt his bottom half move sideways, stretching a tense muscle in his lower back. Snape’s hands pressed firmly on his tailbone. The sensation was amazing, really. That simple pressure just in that spot relieved a sort of ache that had become so much a part of him that he scarcely noticed it. “Oh god, don’t ever stop doing that,” he groaned ecstatically.

But Snape didn’t listen and after a few minutes of bliss, the table was moved the other direction. And then he was set straight again, but Snape’s hands didn’t stop pressing. Every now and again Harry could feel the radiating warmth of the heating spell or the charge of the diagnostic spell as Snape checked his progress. 

“Turn over,” Snape instructed. Harry obliged slowly. Despite all the work, he still couldn’t move very well. As soon as Harry was settled, Snape’s hand slid under his arse. Harry’s eyes widened as the man’s other hand gripped his hip bone. The older man pushed downward and put his weight behind the pressure.

Harry closed his eyes again, feeling extremely uncomfortable with his current state of undress. With the fact that this man had one hand on his arse and the other on his hip. The man’s fingers touching his lower abdomen lightly, mere centimetres away from his cock. If it were someone else, this wouldn’t be a problem. Harry did not normally get wound up over routine checkups. But this was Snape, who he’d only just recently remembered was a sexual being. And one who was known to fancy men. Or at least not be entirely repulsed by the idea of sex with men.

Harry tried to stop himself wondering what Snape thought of him. Harry opened his eyes to find Snape staring at him.

“All right?” Snape asked. The man didn’t look particularly mad with desire. Harry wondered at the slight disappointment he felt.

“’M fine,” he said. Was it his imagination, or had those fingers become suddenly longer? 

“Just a few minutes longer.”

“Kay,” Harry said on a breath, closing his eyes again. He was certain he couldn’t do this much longer. His treacherous body was hell bent on humiliating him. He wasn’t even into blokes. What the hell was the matter with him?

“Is this hurting you?” Snape said suddenly, releasing a little of the pressure on Harry’s hip, but not moving his hand away. On the contrary, the hand settled to cup his hip bone.

“No.”

“You look like you’re in pain.” 

Harry checked his features. Pain of humiliation. “I’m fine. Really. You could probably stop now,” he said, hoping beyond hope that the man would agree.

“It takes time to urge bones back into place,” Snape said, reasserting the pressure on his hip. “We’ll be finished soon. Just relax.”

Relax. Harry could practically feel all the blood in his body being pumped to the one spot he really didn’t want it to go to at the moment. Harry attempted to summon the tried and true images that he’d used over the years to deal with problems like this, Unfortunately, picturing Snape in the throes of passion was counter-productive just now.

Harry opened his eyes at the sound of Snape’s amused snort. “Stop torturing yourself, Harry. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Oh, god,” Harry groaned, one hand moving to over his face the other moving to keep his cock from inching any closer to Snape’s hand. The man’s laughter wasn’t helping matters any. “I’m glad to know you’re enjoying this,” Harry said to his palm.

“Apparently not as much as you,” Snape remarked dryly.

“I’m not – It’s just...” Harry took a deep breath. “Are you through?” he asked, glaring up at the man.

Snape slid his hand out from under Harry’s arse. “Unless you have anything else that needs seeing to,” he said with a lascivious smirk. Harry knew very well that Snape was winding him up. Harry’s cock however could not detect the sarcasm.

“Very funny,” he muttered and then tried to roll into a sitting position. He managed it with Snape’s help.

“You’ll be quite sore for a few days. We’ll keep alternating cold and heat to help the healing. You’ll want to keep heat on your shoulder as well and try to avoid using it if you can help it. “I don’t suppose you’re left-handed,” Snape said, grinning wickedly.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he slipped off the table. After a moment of trying to be angry, he laughed at the whole wretched situation. “You’re such a prat,” he said. “I’m going to lie down for a bit.” Harry walked gingerly toward his room.

“You’ll let me know if you need a hand,” Snape called after him.

As he lay in bed, he amused himself by imagining the look of sheer horror on Snape’s face were he to ask for just that. His imagination ran with the image and after several minutes of struggling to push the thoughts from his overactive mind, Harry surrendered himself to fantasy. After an awkward, left-handed wank, he eventually found sleep.

-o-o-

He awoke again sometime later when the light of his room was turned on. He tried to reach for his glasses, but his shoulder protested angrily. Reaching with his good arm didn’t prove easier. His whole body was stiff as though his spine had solidified into one solid iron rod. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Ouch,” Harry said. And he thought that summed it all up nicely.

“Roll over,” Snape said, using gentle hands to help him do so. “It’s going to be cold again,” he warned a split second before Harry was once more immersed in ice from his neck to his arse. It was slightly less harsh than before as his bed was still warm against his belly.

“This is what you studied in India?” Harry asked after a moment. He didn’t generally ask Snape questions about his new life. The man seemed reluctant to share details and Harry never wanted to scare him away by prying. But he was honestly curious. He knew Snape had some healer training, but he rather thought it was in the dark curse area and, of course, potions.

“I met a man there who helped me to get my back sorted after the accident. We wizards understand so little about the body as we can cure almost any natural ailment by magic. Muggles have had to study the intricate workings of the body to be able to diagnose and treat any problems. They’re really quite remarkable,” Snape explained. “It’s all a bit easier for me as I can use magic to find where the problem areas are. But there are certain problems that are too subtle for magical diagnosis. Prior injuries that haven’t healed correctly, for instance. These you can detect with your hands, with the way the muscles respond to movements.” 

The cold disappeared and was replaced by blissful heat again. Harry could feel his muscles slowly melting. 

“I don’t use magic to heal very often. If I’m too successful in healing, it would attract unwanted attention. If the problem is something I can’t fix easily I send the client to a doctor.”

As the man spoke, Harry felt awed by the realisation that Severus had constructed a whole new life. He’d known this, of course. But he’d always been under the impression that the man was somehow still connected to his old life. 

“You’ll never come back to Britain, will you?” He couldn’t quite explain the sadness that went along with the realisation. He himself had taken great pains in the MLE to make it so that if Snape ever had a change of heart, he’d be welcomed as a hero and celebrated. 

Severus snorted. “Have you just realised that?” he said, clearly amused. “I believe we’ve already had this conversation.”

Harry opened his eyes to see the man. “I know. But it’s suddenly sunk in,” he said with a sheepish smile. And now he wondered if the man needed a bridge at all. He felt a sort of panicked feeling in his stomach at the thought that Severus might happily cut all ties and never be seen again. It had always been Harry who insisted on the contact. He’d convinced himself that he was fulfilling the mission given to him by Dumbledore. He wondered now when things began to change. When had he started to need the contact? And why? “I think I always imagined that you’d change your mind. That you’d miss it, I suppose.”

Severus shook his head. “There’s nothing to miss. Certainly not my job. No friends. I have no ties there, Harry. Apart from you,” he amended. “Although you are particularly tenacious.” The man smiled and pushed Harry’s hair back from his face. “How are you feeling now?”

Heartsick, Harry thought. Confused. He moved his torso around a bit. “Shoulder is killing me, but the rest is better.”

Snape handed him a phial. “For your shoulder,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and nodded. “I could eat,” he said. 

The effects of the potion were immediate and soon Harry had pulled on his pyjama trousers and a t-shirt. Snape had a plate of pasta waiting by the time he joined him. The table, he was pleased to see, had returned to its original state. “Thanks for the potion,” he said as he sat down. “You might have given it me earlier.”

“As I recall you were rather keen to get away,” Snape said with a poorly suppressed smile. “By the time I knocked you were already sleeping.

Harry felt himself blush at his remembered humiliation. A natural physiological reaction, he reminded himself again. If he kept repeating it he might believe it. He shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth to relieve the less embarrassing natural reaction growling in his stomach.

“You won’t be able to ski for a bit,” Snape said. “Will you go back early?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to Harry. He thought he might quite happily stay forever if he could. He wouldn’t want to stay alone and given the other man’s new life, he didn’t think Severus would want to stay. He wasn’t even sure that Severus had wanted to come in the first place. “Did you want to go back? I mean I know I sort of forced you to come here,” he said.

Severus gave him a long look. “You didn’t force me here,” he said after a moment. “I was concerned, it’s true, but it’s been many years since I’ve taken a holiday and no one expects me back for a few days yet.” 

“Nor me,” Harry said, relieved that the man wasn’t going to do a runner. “I suppose you could still ski.”

Severus nodded. “I could. Or I thought we could do some snow shoeing. A little exercise will help your back.”

Harry gave a puzzled smile. “All right, then.”

“And I thought we’d go into the village for New Year’s Eve.”

“All right,” Harry said, puzzled. Severus had always avoided the village. He remembered about the spell the man had developed the last time.

“Would you object to Polyjuice? It would be better if you’re not recognised.”

Harry made a face. Although it had been many years since he last took it, the taste was not easily forgotten. “Suppose not,” he said begrudgingly. “Do you always carry around Polyjuice and stray bits of strangers?”

Snape gave him a bland look. “Forward planning, Harry. I know it’s not your strong suit. ”

“All right, then.” Harry grinned. “It’s a date,” he joked and then laughed at the incredulous look on the man’s face.

“Careful, Potter. I may begin to think you fancy me,” the man said with mock seriousness.

Harry was momentarily stunned, but covered it with a smirk. “Well you do give fantastic massages,” he countered and then enjoyed the look of surprise on the other man’s face. It felt admittedly good to have turned the tables, if only momentarily.

The moment was short lived, however and Severus narrowed his eyes ever so slightly and leant forward toward Harry. The man’s dark eyes pulled him in until Harry felt embroiled in their sudden heat. “You have no idea,” the man said slowly.

Harry’s mouth opened. His mind went momentarily blank. He was a mouse staring in paralysed disbelief at the snake poised to strike. Never was a mouse so eager to be swallowed whole. It was this epiphany that caused Harry to blink, his face going so hot that he went dizzy from it. He gave a weak laugh and poked at his pasta. He glanced over and felt slightly annoyed at the smug look on the man’s face. “I have a pretty good imagination,” he muttered under his breath and then offered a teasing smile.

Severus shook his head and laughed. “Eat your dinner, you infernal boy. It’s going cold.”

-o-o-

The next two days passed too quickly for Severus’ liking. Despite Harry’s injuries, the two of them managed to find quite a lot to do. The mornings were spent snow shoeing along the snowy slopes and through the forest of trees descending them. Severus would work Harry’s back in the afternoon and he was pleased with the progression of the healing. Thankfully there were no more “natural reactions” to keep Severus awake at night wondering at their possible implications. 

Their evenings were spent in surprisingly stimulating conversation that lasted well into the night. Despite Harry’s insistence that he was just going through the motions of his life, he became very animated when talking about his work. About the changes he was advocating in the MLE and the positive direction Shacklebolt was taking the ministry in. It almost made Severus wish he were there to witness the restructuring of the world he’d left behind.  
Severus in turn entertained Harry with stories about some of his more ridiculous clients. He recounted his years travelling, the people he met up with, a few of his near misses when he came across travelling British Wizards. 

Slowly Potter, the boy was taking shape as Harry, the man in Severus’ mind. Severus had always received the boy’s letters gladly, but not without a vague sense of dread. He still felt some concern for the boy he’d protected all those years and was dismayed that he hadn’t managed to find peace in the aftermath. He knew too well that there was little he could do about it but to continue to offer clear perspective to the muddle Harry had made of his life. He felt confident that someday Harry would stop doing what was expected of him and take control of his own destiny. His capacity for hypocrisy, however, was limited and he couldn’t bring himself to judge the other man too harshly.

The Harry with whom he was becoming acquainted was not the unsure, perpetually dissatisfied person that would report to him in the regular newsletters. There was some aspect of that in him, of course, especially when it came to his relationship with the Weasley girl. Severus was convinced that the girl was right about Harry’s motives for staying in the relationship. When Severus had asked him how their relationship had lasted so long when all they seemed to do was argue, Harry had shrugged and said that making up had its advantages.

Severus wouldn’t really know about that aspect of relationships. None of his ever really got to the first fight, let alone the making up. He’d been out with a number of men over the last few years, but he was reticent about getting close to any of them. How could he? He couldn’t offer honesty – it was too risky. There would always be something he’d have to hide and the prospect of living a double life again held absolutely no appeal.

He didn’t really consider his life to be lacking for all of that. He had a circle of friends and acquaintances that kept him amused. His business was small but provided what he needed to survive. He took courses that interested him from the local University, tended his garden and had a reasonably active sex life. He was happy. A relationship would simply add an unnecessary complication.

Of course, Harry couldn’t quite understand Severus’ logic. Severus suspected that the man didn’t know how to be alone and suspected, furthermore, that being alone would be the best thing for the man. It was difficult to explore life’s possibilities when one was mired in routine. When Severus had told him so, Harry had conceded that he was probably right. Severus sincerely hoped Harry would take his words to heart because if he had to endure four more years of the man’s moaning about his wretched life, Severus might have to hex him.

“You look great,” Harry told him as Severus entered the lounge. “Green’s a good colour on you,” he added.

“I’ve always been partial to it,” Severus said and then handed over a pile of clothes and a pair of shoes. “For you.” The man took them with a puzzled look. “The man you’re to become is a bit taller than you,” he explained. “I took the liberty of bringing extra clothes.”

Harry grinned. “So you really planned all this?”

Severus shrugged. “I thought you’d appreciate not being isolated with only your dour old Potions master for company.”

Harry snorted. “Haven’t you heard? My dour old Potions master is dead.”

Severus laughed. “Good riddance. Go and get changed,” he said, handing over the flask of Polyjuice potion that would get them through the next few hours.

Potter disappeared into his room and Snape helped himself to a whisky while he waited. At the sound of an astonished, “Bloody hell,” Severus walked back to see what the man had got himself into now.

“Problems?” he said and then took in the sight of the man standing in his knickers and staring at himself in the mirror. Severus’ stomach flipped over at the vision and the memory that went along with it. In retrospect, it might have been wise to have chosen a different man. 

“I can’t go out like this,” Harry as Eytan said, still gazing in wonder at his reflection.

“Well, I did give you the clothes to wear them,” Severus pointed out, blandly. Although he didn’t think he would be disappointed if the man opted for not wearing them. Severus squashed that thought and firmly reminded himself that this was Harry Bloody Potter and not some beautiful Israeli tourist. Somehow, that thought didn’t quite work as it should have done.

“No, I mean. Look at him. He’s... Perfect. I’ll be...mauled by women or something,” he laughed.

“I would think you were used to the attention,” Severus said, sincerely surprised by the man’s reaction.

Harry looked back to meet Severus’ eyes. Severus found himself momentarily astonished to not see the usual green gaze staring back. Instead crystal blue eyes met his own. “It’s not the same, Harry said, mercifully reaching for the clothes on the bed. “They’re not attracted to me. They want my name,” he said, clearly disgusted by it. “I guess it’s good. If I looked like this on top of the name, I wouldn’t get away so easily,” he grinned. 

“You can’t possibly believe that they’re only attracted to your name,” Severus said, his eyes sliding up the long and lithe frame as it was slowly covered. He thought he should probably go and let Harry get on with it, but he stood transfixed. 

Harry gave him a doubtful look before slipping on the light grey shirt. Severus bid a silent goodbye the well muscled torso that he’d once been so intimately acquainted with. Potter turned to watch himself button the shirt, clearly as fascinated as he. Perhaps not for the same reasons.

Perhaps.

“I know I’m not hideous,” he said. “But I’m certainly not him.”

“You’re right. For a start, he knew how beautiful he was,” Severus pointed out. He was astonished to find himself in the unlikely position of having to reassure Harry Potter’s bloody ego. He had to admit to being surprised to find it necessary. He’d always accused the boy of arrogance. He could recall the countless arguments with Albus on the subject, but he never believed that he could be wrong. 

“I’m not beautiful. I’m a bloody mess compared to him. Did you know him? Is he a client of yours?” Harry sat on the bed to pull on his socks and shoes.

“He was a rock climber. A tourist from Israel. Another customer of mine owns a climbing shop and referred him to me to sort out a pulled muscle in his back.”

Harry stood and looked at himself once more in the mirror.

Severus laughed. “Should I leave the two of you alone?”

Harry gave him a mock glare, but managed to tear himself away from his reflection to follow Severus to the cloakroom. “So that was it then. He came in for a massage and left a bit of himself behind?”

Severus couldn’t help but laugh. “More or less,” he said, not willing to go into details. He didn’t want to make the man more uncomfortable than he already was.

“Must have been hard for you,” Harry said, pulling on the overcoat that Severus had left out for him. “I mean touching him. What with you being, you know, gay.”

The smirk slid into place before Severus could catch it. Hard indeed. “I managed,” he said. He nearly groaned to see the wheels start to turn behind those not so green eyes. “We’re wasting valuable time,” he said quickly and pushed past the young man into the cold night.

“Are you using your spell?” Harry asked, facing Severus now.

Severus smiled. “Of course,” he said and then grabbed the man’s arm to Apparate them both to the edge of the village. The night sky was clear and the air bitterly cold. Severus muttered a warming spell to encompass them both as they made their way to the disco.

“I forget sometimes how bloody clever you are. I mean you’ve been developing spells since you were a kid. I only started a few years ago.”

“Potter how many times did you best the Dark Lord before you turned eighteen? I assure you, you were not unimpressive.” Severus snorted.

“Yeah, but there were a lot of factors at play there. I didn’t do it alone and a lot of it was luck,” Harry admitted.

Severus looked over at him. He felt surprisingly disappointed not to see Harry beside him. He looked away again. “And I was a boy with a penchant for research, time on my hands and a profound desire to do harm to my enemies.”

The look on the other man’s face told Severus that he knew very well who those enemies were. Fortunately, he wisely decided not to go down that path. “I still learnt more from the Half Blood Prince than a lot of my other classes. Yours included, by the way.” Harry gave him a playful nudge with his elbow.

Severus shook his head. “Most of what you read is information available in the library if anyone were to take an interest.”

Harry stopped and gave the man a pointed glare. “Get off it, Snape. You know you’re a bloody genius .”

Severus’ eyes dropped momentarily to the man’s mouth. He tore his gaze away before he could get stuck there. “Perhaps I am cleverer than most,” he conceded with a smile. 

They walked further down the street until they came to the nightclub. The place was already quite crowded and as expected, all eyes were on his date for the night. Remarkably, Harry didn’t seem to notice. He looked around. Snape saw the man gesture with his hand and then watched as the occupants of a corner table suddenly decided to go. Harry nodded with his head and made his way to sit at the back.

Severus gave him a reproachful look and Harry grinned. He leaned in to be heard over the music. “You’d have done the same thing,” he said. He was right, of course. “What do you want to drink?”

“Nothing unnaturally coloured or sweet,” he shouted back. The music beat with a deafening thud thud thud. As Harry went to get drinks, Severus surveyed the room. It was a curious mix of young people in varying states of undress and older couples clearly on holiday and reliving their youthful years. As the music changed, Snape realised that the bar catered to all tastes. Some of the more lively (pissed) youths stayed on the dancefloor as the middle aged group invaded. 

He detested places like this. On the rare occasions he got roped into going to a nightclub, he generally stayed only as long was polite before taking his pounding head back to the quiet peace of his flat. Sometimes, he had company for the trip home.

His eyes searched the crowd at the bar for tonight’s companion and found him surrounded by three young women. Harry kept glancing back occasionally trying to catch the bartender’s eye. The awkwardness that Severus could see was so foreign on that face that it made him laugh to see it. The eyes finally looked up to meet his and narrowed. One of the girls glanced back to see what had caught the object of her desire’s eyes. She gave a small smile before turning back to him. She leant in to speak directly into his ear. He gave a mischievous grin and then leant in to shout something for the benefit of the three girls. As one they all turned to look directly at Severus. Or rather through Severus, as none of them would actually be able to properly see him. Their faces fell.

The bartender saved Harry at last and, within another minute, the man was coming toward him with a tumbler of what looked to be whisky and some other tall dark drink. He sat and handed Severus his glass, wearing a particularly smug smile.

“Fans of yours?” Severus said into the man’s ear.

Harry laughed. “Not anymore,” he said back.

“How did you manage that?”

The grin he was favoured with was breathtaking. Suddenly Severus could feel the other man’s breath on his neck. “I told them I was on a date.” Severus turned his head in surprise. The other man’s face was far too close and looked far too pleased.

Severus discreetly cast a muffling charm so he could avoid the disturbing proximity. “There’s no harm in flirting with them a bit, you know. It couldn’t really be considered cheating. They were not unattractive as women go.”

The other man looked dumbstruck. “You’ve got to be joking. Do you know what girls are like? Especially in groups.” The man took a long drink from his glass and looked out toward the dance floor. “I’m rubbish at flirting anyway. I never had to flirt with Gin. It’s probably why we’re together.” He laughed.  
Severus thought Harry was quite good at flirting if the week’s banter were anything to go by. “Well, you know that your little white lie comes with consequences,” Severus said raising an eyebrow.

“Consequences,” the other man repeated with a puzzled look. 

“I believe it’s tradition on New Year’s Eve to kiss your date at midnight.” Severus smirked wickedly.

He laughed as Harry’s face fell in something akin to horror. The man’s eyes went to Severus’ mouth. Severus felt his stomach drop when Harry’s tongue slid out to wet his lips. He was about to tell the foolish man that he wasn’t serious, for fuck’s sake, when the man unnecessarily leant in to say into his ear, “Well then I suppose we had better start drinking.” The words shivered down his body to pool in his bollocks. Harry touched his glass to Severus’ before taking another deep drink.

“You do realise I care nothing for tradition,” Severus said, once he could find his voice. He threw back the contents of his own glass and then set it down on the table in front of them. “And I think you underestimate your ability to flirt,” he added for good measure. He held to the hope that calling the foolish man on what he was doing would dissuade him from continuing. 

Harry laughed and then put on a hurt expression. “Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me?” he asked innocently.

Snape glared. He might have left it at that, but he’d been quite restrained up to now and Harry was deliberately winding him up. And if Harry were foolish enough to engage in that particular game with him, he would soon see the error of his ways. Severus leaned in toward the other man. His lips did not quite brush Harry’s ear. “I’d ravish you now were I not certain you’d hate yourself in the morning.”

Severus leaned back in his chair, pleased by the stunned look on the other man’s face. After a moment, Harry gave a light laugh. “I can’t say I blame you. I am fucking fit,” he said with a straight face.

A surprised laugh bubbled in Severus’ throat. He could see the other man grin at his own cheeky humour. “The regrettable side effect of this spell is that it is nigh on impossible to get served in a crowded bar,” Severus hinted, not so subtly. 

Harry knocked back his own drink before rising on cue. “Same again?”

“Make it a double. Neat,” Severus instructed.

This time Harry was served almost immediately by an enamoured blond barmaid. As he waited for her to prepare the drink, Severus saw him take a swig out of the flasque in his pocket. Severus shuddered sympathetically. He was surprised to see him walking back balancing a tray with four drinks. “Forward planning,” he mocked and took his seat again. “Do you dance?” he asked as his eyes raked over the crowd of writhing youngsters.

“Not to this,” Severus said. “But you’re welcome to join them.”

“No way,” Harry said. “Definitely not my thing. I just can’t bring myself to look that ridiculous.” His gaze snagged on a pair of girls frotting against each other.

“Ah, yes,” Severus mocked, once he’d followed Harry’s line of sight. “Every straight man’s dream, I hear,” he said.

“It looks nice,” Harry admitted. “But it’s a bloody awkward position to be in.” He laughed at Severus’ surprised look. “I’m not exactly a virgin, Severus,” he said. “And Ginny is...adventurous.”

“So explain to me how being in the middle of two young women might be awkward,” Severus said. It wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, but it wasn’t too difficult for him to see the appeal.

Harry took a bracing drink from his glass. He gave a long look at Severus before laughing and shaking his head. “All right,” he said. “Ginny mentioned she wanted to try it. With the Harpies, she’s only ever around women and most of them beat for the same team, so to speak. So I think she was curious and I agreed. I mean, who wouldn’t?” 

Severus nodded his understanding. “We got a room in London and pulled this Muggle girl that we both agreed was attractive. Except... I don’t know. I’m rubbish with girls. I always have been. And I was just so worried about pissing Ginny off, I didn’t want to touch the other girl too much. And how much was too much? And if I concentrated on Ginny, would the other girl feel left out? Basically, I over-thought it and then was just useless.”

Severus laughed. “Sorry. It’s not funny.”

“It is. A bit.” The other man wore a sheepish grin.

“And so... what happened?”

“I buggered off to the pub and let them get on with it. Ginny didn’t speak to me for a week.” Harry laughed and drank some more. “You have it easy. Blokes are far less complicated,” he said.

“There are exceptions to every rule,” Severus said. “But on the whole, I agree.”

“Have you ever been with a woman?” Harry asked. 

Severus nodded. “It wasn’t unpleasant. But not an experience I’m willing to repeat,” he said with a smile. “They’re far too...” he searched for an adequate word. “Soft,” he said. It was inadequate as a description, but true nevertheless. 

Harry laughed. “That’s what Ginny said, when she finally got around to talking to me again. Not too soft. Just soft. I think she liked it. I think she’s still at it, though she’ll never admit it.”

Words from Harry’s letters came back to him. “You suspect she’s having an affair with a woman?”

“She would tell you that it’s not cheating. We talked about it once.” Harry shook his head incredulously. “I confronted her. She didn’t really deny it. She just asked me why I would be threatened by it given that I couldn’t really compete. He chased his bitterness with the rest of his drink. “So I asked her how she would feel if I went and got buggered by some bloke.” He trailed off and glanced over at Severus. Severus could practically feel the heat of the other man’s blush, though the blue lights prevented him from seeing it.

“And she said...”

Harry snorted. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” he laughed. “You’ve probably had enough of my melodrama.”

Severus finished the last of the first drink and reached for the second. He was beginning to feel pleasantly numb. “On the contrary, the details make the whole thing more interesting.”

“She told me that it would probably do me good.”

Severus’ mouth dropped for a moment. He closed it before he could wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps he should go slowly on the last one.

“She didn’t mean it,” Harry added. “I don’t think.”

Severus laughed. “You don’t think?”

Harry grinned at him. “I never know with her. She’s not like other women. She’s very... Open.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The girl had practically given the man a green light to explore. Most men would die for a woman like that.

“It’s not. Not really. I mean, apart from that one disastrous night, sex has never been a problem. If I’m only to be with one person in my life, I’m pretty lucky it’s her.” Harry looked over to meet Severus’ eyes. “Ok. Your turn. Are you going to tell me about what you did to the body I’m wearing?” Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Severus stomach gave a mighty lurch. “Would you like a list?” he said, recovering from shock. 

“I knew it,” he heard the other man say. “It’s like sensory memory or something. This body just... reacts to you.”

Severus couldn’t repress the smile that spread across his face. It was an interesting theory, given the context in which the bits of the man were harvested, as it were. An interesting theory, but utter bollocks. “Reacts to me?” 

Harry grinned. “So, this bloke comes in to see you with a pulled muscle. And you sort him out. What, right there on your table.”

Severus gave the man a bland look. “Not quite. Shall we say he had a natural reaction?” 

Harry covered his eyes, finger moving to rub over a scar that wasn’t there. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Severus laughed. “When you blush so spectacularly? The man whose body you now wear was not really the blushing type. He made several advances as he was lying on my table, all of which I refused. Professionally.” Audacious. That was the best description of the man. Audacious and so bloody convinced he was Yahweh’s personal gift to gay men everywhere, it was hard to refuse him. “I think he wasn’t used to being rejected and so he came back later that evening.”

“And?”

And I made him beg for it, Severus thought, closing his eyes to savour the memory. “And three days later he continued on his tour of America.”

Harry gave him a frustrated look and before turning his eyes again to the dance floor. They sat in silence, contemplating the festivities that were being carried out in front of them. Their own private showing of the dullest stage theatre imaginable. “What’s it like with a bloke?” Harry asked as the music transitioned once more to something fast and mind-numbing.

“Depends on the bloke,” Severus said after a moment. “Compared to a woman, a lot more straightforward. But there’s still a certain amount of exploration necessary to determine your partner’s likes and dislikes. Everyone’s different.”

Harry looked over, eyes sparkling. “What did he like?” 

“You’re obsessed. I’m not altogether certain Miss Weasley was wrong about you, you know.”

The man shrugged, sliding further down in his chair. “Maybe,” he conceded. Severus barely heard the word and chose to pretend he didn’t.

“He liked to be dominated,” Severus told him, against all reason. The whole conversation was ill-advised. Added to the copious amount of booze they were both consuming, it was becoming increasingly clear where they were headed. Severus told himself that either he or Harry would have the good sense to stop it in time. He refused to entertain the thought that Harry Potter and sense didn’t belong in the same sentence. “I think it surprised him, how much he liked it.”

Severus watched in fascination as a full bottom lip was sucked between astonishingly straight white teeth. The man’s eyes took on a far away look and Severus knew with aching clarity that the man was trying to picture the scene. After far too long for Severus’ tastes, the bottom lip was released from its torture and Harry turned again to Severus with a frighteningly serious look on his face. Severus held his breath, terrified of what the man might say next.

“Do you think having a wank in this body would count as a homosexual experience?” Harry asked before breaking down in giggles. Severus’ own laugh erupted suddenly. Whatever he’d been expecting, that certainly wasn’t it. Harry continued, “I wouldn’t even know how to go about it. I’ve never been circumcised.” He sniggered into his glass and then drained the last of it. He sat up suddenly and looked over. “Perhaps you can lend a hand,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

After a moment of gaping, he recognized the paraphrased offer he’d tortured the man with earlier in the week. “I think that would definitely make it a homosexual experience,” Severus said, managing to keep a straight face in spite of the mad jumping around his insides were doing. 

“Same again?”

“Maybe just the one.”

As Harry made another trip to the bar, Severus slumped into his chair, taking a moment to remind himself who he was with. He tried to reason that the man was on his way to being pissed and that while he was clearly curious, it was certainly not up to Severus to satisfy his curiosity. He told himself that the man’s life was complicated enough without his adding to it. And more importantly, the man was likely to get Emotionally Involved, and that was something Severus tended to avoid like the plague.

It was the last firm reminder that renewed his resolve. Doing anything with Harry, in whatever form the man might take, would have catastrophic effects. It didn’t matter that Severus would be long gone in two days. It didn’t matter that he also had a solid, irrefutable excuse for not carrying on a relationship with the man, should he get it into his head that he’d want one. Nor did it matter that Harry wasn’t likely to give up job and family to come in search of Severus.

“Gods,” he whispered, cradling his head in his hands.

“What’s the matter?” Harry said. A hand went to stroke the back of his head.

Severus moved away from the touch. “Nothing,” he lied. Badly. He quickly finished what was left in his old glass before starting on the new.

“Clearly,” Harry said, completely unconvinced. “It’s a quarter to,” he informed him and sat back with his drink. After another long pause in the conversation, the man said, “I was a little traumatised, you know. By that memory.”

Severus looked over in surprise at the sudden change of subject. “I apologised for that,” he said. He’d been not just a little mortified at having inadvertently shared such a personal moment, if he were honest. And to have shared it with Harry Bloody Potter. . . 

“At first I was just shocked. I mean, it was great seeing my mum and dad together like that. Especially seeing my dad not being a total twat for a change. And I tried to just remember that part. But my brain would just follow you and that boy down to Slytherin. Trying to imagine it.” Harry laughed at himself and shook his head. He glanced over just briefly meeting Severus’ wary gaze before looking away again. “I felt guilty about it. Like I was intruding on your privacy... But I couldn’t stop. It was the sound of your voice that did it. When he touched you. Your voice is amazing, really. Very... Impressive. I dunno. I can feel it when you talk to me. Everywhere.”

“Harry,” Severus said, closing his eyes and struggling to gather what was left of his good sense. “We can’t do this.”  
To his credit, the man didn’t feign innocence. After a long moment of silence, he nodded. “I know that. Mostly. But then I think well... You’re safe.” Harry gave him a small smile. “You’re not likely to go to the Prophet with it, are you? And in a couple of days you go back to your life and I go back...” Harry took a deep breath. “To mine.”

“You’re an emotional wreck,” Severus pointed out. It was the last line of his crumbling defences. “It would only complicate things.”

Harry laughed. “I am at that,” he said. He pulled the flask from his pocket and drank again, eyes fixed on the dance floor. From what seemed like miles away, the DJ began the ten minute countdown in what passed for German in Switzerland. He played some upbeat pop song that Severus was sure he’d heard before in another life.

“I think we should go out there,” Harry said with a mischievous grin. “I like this song.”

Severus gave him a dubious look as he listened to the words. Something about a waitress in a cocktail bar. All the middle-aged people and the same group of vivacious younger people began bopping around idiotically to the electronic music. “You’ve got to joking,” he said.

Harry stood and held out his hand. “Come on. We can’t look much more ridiculous than them,” he said. 

“You’re pissed,” Severus protested, but for some reason he allowed himself to be pulled up out of the comfortable silence of his bubble and out into the raucous world of the nightclub. Severus steadfastly stopped at the periphery of the dance floor, still holding his drink. Harry gave him his own to hold and Severus watched with a bemused expression as Harry began jumping around to the rhythm of the music.

_DON’T YOU WANT ME BABY..._

Severus couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous man. And while it was clearly Eytan’s body jerking around to the music, Harry shined through with startling clarity. Every now and again their eyes would meet and a cheeky grin would stretch across the man’s face as he mouthed the refrain to the song. And Severus’ wanted him. Every inch of him.

The women, and one or two men on the dance floor were drawn to the man, dancing around him as though in worship. And in the middle of it all, Harry’s eyes would meet his own. Severus’ gaze grew territorial. Tonight, at least, this man was his. And Severus didn’t like to share. Let them all look. At the end of the night, that man bouncing spastically along was leaving with him.

_DON’T YOU WANT ME OH!_

“That was fun,” Harry panted into his ear, taking his glass from Severus’ hand. 

“So it would seem,” Severus said, leaning in to be heard over the music. 

Harry looked at the man with through lidded eyes. Eytan’s gaze was always sultry. Severus wondered what the real Harry would look like with that same expression. Harry leant in again, his body almost brushing Severus’ own. “Have I mentioned the effect you have on this body?” he said breathlessly. He didn’t move away after he spoke.

Severus’ hand moved to rest on the body in question. “This body?” he asked against the man’s ear. He let his fingertips touch lightly the other man’s ribs and then caress down the well-muscled, lean stomach. He heard a quickly indrawn breath next to his ear. The body shivered under his touch.

“Fucking hell,” Harry laughed breathlessly, and then rested his forehead on Severus’ shoulder. Uncertain fingertips rested gently on Severus’ hip. After a long moment, he moved back again. Severus was just able to make out the word “loo” before the man disappeared. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. Pointless to remind himself again of the identity of the man he was just fondling. Every inch of him knew very well who it was. It didn’t make him want it any less.

The music was picking up tempo in the countdown to midnight. The various groups of women and men had been broken down into couples who now were engaged in the mating dance that would carry them into the New Year. By morning the magical optimism surrounding new beginnings would fade and all these people would return, shamefaced, to their dreary lives. 

Could Severus count himself among them? He didn’t consider his life to be dreary. There was a certain amount of routine, it was true. But Severus liked routine. Nor was he looking for a new beginning. He’d had his and it hadn’t ended in disappointment. Harry, however, was in search of his. Had the foolish man fallen for the empty promise of the New Year? Although he sincerely hoped that Harry would start anew, it disturbed him to think that he would be the catalyst that would bring about any sort of beginning. He wasn’t ready for what that would mean.

_You’re safe._

The man’s words came back to him and he clung to them like a promise. He was safe. Safe from the complications this night would bring. Safe from the emotional entanglements in which the other man was currently ensnared.

An eternity passed and the man still hadn’t returned. Severus began to scan the crowd and then had to do it once again when he realised he was looking for the wrong man. Neither man was to be seen. The DJ announced the one minute countdown and Severus felt a sort of panic to be stood there alone. Perhaps Harry had had some brief moment of clarity and left. It would be the sensible thing, but so unlike Harry that Severus couldn’t bring himself to believe it. More likely there was a queue at the loo.

Severus mentally berated himself for expecting the man to be at his side at midnight in the first place. It didn’t matter. It was a random time imposed on the world to mark the passing of one year to another. But the disappointment gathering in his chest didn’t care for his logic just then. Severus threw back the rest of his whisky and set the glass on a neighbouring table. People were flocking to the dance floor to usher in the New Year and Severus stood alone at the periphery.  
He looked through the crowd as the countdown from 10 began. Still no sign. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, preparing to go and wait in the comfort of his corner table. He turned around to find himself eye to eye with the man he’d been looking for. He stepped back in surprise and Harry stepped forward to close the gap. 

_5...4..._

The man’s eyes stared at him as he drew his face nearer, mouthing along with the countdown through a wide smile.

_3...2..._

His hands went up to cup either side of Severus’ face. His breath smelled of something sweet, heavily musked with rum. Severus’ own hands went to the man’s hips, pulling him closer.

_1..._

“Happy New Year,” Harry whispered before brushing his lips lightly against Severus’. It was a hesitant brush, an exploratory taste. Around them the world exploded in shouts of rejoicing. They harmonised nicely with the echoing explosions going on inside him. Harry touched his forehead to Severus’ and Severus opened his eyes to meet the other man’s gaze. His heart beat wildly in his chest. 

“Where were you?” he shouted over the noise.

“Just here,” Harry said and then leant in to kiss him again. The soft lips parted to capture Severus’ bottom lip, dryly tugging on it. A shy tongue slid forward to wet it. Severus’ released a low moan and deepened the kiss, making it firmer. More demanding. His fingers slid under the man’s shirt to touch the smooth skin beneath. Around them the crowd sang.

_Should auld acquantaince be forgot_  
And never brought to mind?  
Should auld acquantaince be forgot,  
And auld lang syne? 

Harry pulled back slightly and looked him in the eye. “They’re playing our song,” he said.  


Severus laughed incredulously.

“Let’s go.” 

Severus didn’t quite hear him, but his body understood perfectly. They were quiet and reserved as they gathered their coats and made their way into the night. They began walking to the edge of the village when Harry pulled him into a deserted little street. “All right to Apparate?” he asked.

“You?” Severus replied.

Harry disappeared with an answering pop. Severus followed after.


	3. Exploration

Severus and Harry entered the chalet and wordlessly began to remove their outer wear. Coats were hung, shoes lined up carefully along the wall. The cold of the night and the suddenly bright lights of the cloakroom had provided unwelcome clarity to the current situation. With silent anticipation, interrupted only by the sound of breathing, Harry gave an uncertain smile before entering the lounge. He reached the back of the sofa that sat before the window and leant against it, waiting.

Severus entered the room a few seconds later. He lingered in the doorway. 

“So,” Harry said. The side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. “This is weird.” He laughed.

Severus grunted. “Weird,” he agreed. Surreal, he would have said.

“But good,” Harry clarified. “Right?”

Severus’ head cocked to the side as he considered the other man. “Ill-advised,” he countered, stepping slowly toward him.

A flash of white teeth. The eyes glittered with intent. “But you want to.”

Severus stopped in front of Harry, just out of reach. He raised his hands to begin to undo the buttons of his shirt. Harry’s gaze followed the progression of Severus’ fingers. “One night,” Severus said.

Harry’s own fingers hurriedly undid the first two buttons of his own shirt before pulling it over his head and dropping it on the sofa behind him. “Right,” he said, pushing off the back of the sofa to take a step closer. “One night,” he tried to say solemnly, but a drunken smile spread over his face. 

Severus undid his cuffs and then slid the shirt from his arms. He took a half step forward, and reached past Harry to drape his shirt along the back of the sofa. Harry’s hands wasted no time in finding his skin, stroking down his sides. Harry’s nose nudged the skin under Severus’ ear. Severus placed a dry kiss on the man’s neck. “This means nothing,” he warned the man, his tongue sweeping out to taste the salty skin.

Harry’s leg slipped between Severus’, his hip pressing teasingly against Severus’ clear interest. Severus gasped, hands stilling the other man’s hips. “Nothing at all,” Harry breathed into his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

Severus’ throat gave an involuntary moan of approval. His arm slid to pull the other man flush against him. The skin felt exquisite against his own. Severus kissed a slow trail across Harry’s cheeks to the corner of his mouth. “It will never happen again,” he whispered against the man’s lips.

Harry pulled back slightly until he could just focus on the man’s eyes. A slow wicked smile curled onto his lips. “Never say never, Severus,” he said before launching himself forward, kissing any protest that Severus had away. Which was fortunate as Severus was unable to conjure any at the moment, taken as he was with the taste of that mouth, the feel of those hands sliding over him. The press of the man’s stomach against his, the hardness digging against his hip. Severus’ hands slipped behind Harry to pull his arse closer still. Severus’ own hips began rocking forward.

  


A low groan spilled from Harry’s throat, fingers gripping tightly over Severus’ shoulder. The kiss slowly lost the clumsy urgency and fell into a pleasing rhythm of lips, teeth and tongues dancing together. The other man’s thigh flexed against his erection, generously providing him with a firm source of friction. Severus’ fingers slid along the waistband of Harry’s trousers, meeting at the fastening. Severus broke out of the kiss to gauge the man’s reaction.

Harry’s hands covered his own. He offered a sheepish smile. “Your place or mine?” he asked. One hand moved forward to hook into Severus’ belt and tug him forward. He kissed him again, walking blindly backward toward the bedrooms.

Severus rather liked their current location, which offered whatever they might need for whatever the night would bring. But if Harry wanted a bed, Severus could respect that. A sudden feeling of horror and a contradictory feeling of keen anticipation came to him at the realisation that Harry was... well, not a virgin, but close enough to it to make no difference on this side of straight. And Severus wasn’t really sure how to deal with that.

His heart beat nervously as he was alternately pulled and pushed toward the back rooms. Harry Potter, his mind was helpfully chanting. Harry Fucking Potter. Fucking Harry Potter. The history between them alone made this signficant. _It means nothing._

It meant a hell of a lot more than nothing.

He was about to lose his nerve when he was pulled forcefully into Harry’s bedroom. “’s closer,” Harry breathed, and then his lips closed over Severus’ again, interrupting all thoughts. Harry’s fingers began to fumble with his belt. Severus’ good sense took control of his hands, stopping the man’s progress. 

The nervousness that he saw in that gaze looked strange on that face. Severus pursed his lips into a line, stepping away, trying to find the space to breath, to think, to come back to his senses. He could see uncertainty in those eyes. “Don’t over-think it,” Harry whispered.

Severus raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath, recovering an outward appearance of calm. “We have all night,” he said evasively.

Harry shook his head. “About 30 minutes, actually.” His hands went now to his own trousers, unfastening them and smoothly pushing them down to the floor. He toed off his socks.

Severus snorted incredulously. “You do realise your sensory memory theory is rubbish, right?”

Harry grinned, his thumbs hanging from the waistband of his pants. “We can debate that tomorrow,” he promised. “At the moment, I am intent on finding out what it’s like to be circumcised.” The pants fell to the floor and Harry stepped back to lean against the bed. “And I’ll need your expertise.” Long fingers curled around the revealed length.

Something like relief swept through Severus upon learning of Harry’s mission. His expertise, as it were, was available for consultation. Curiosity, Severus could deal with. He was, in fact, happy to oblige. He made quick work of his trousers, pulling his socks off as well. “You’ll need to tell me what you want,” he said in a low, quiet voice. “And what you don’t want.”

Harry worried the full bottom lip as he watched Severus undress. Severus could see a blush colour the man’s cheeks in the dim light. “Nothing too...er, penetrative,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Is that all right?”

Severus refused to attribute the word charming to the man’s uncertainty. There was nothing charming about inexperience, he told himself firmly. He stepped forward. “Perfect,” he said and then pushed the man back to lie back on the bed. Severus crawled up to lie along Harry’s side, kissing him gently. He pressed his hips firmly and deliberately against the hard length of the man’s cock and then swept away the moan he’d provoked with his tongue. The younger man’s hips jutted up against him. After a moment, Severus moved to straddle the other man’s thighs. Harry’s eyes focussed on Severus’ pants.

“You’ve been blessed,” the other man said, eyes widening as he reached to brush along the covered tip. 

Severus bit his lip to silence a moan and moved his hand to curl around the other man’s erection. He watched as Harry’s eyes focussed on the cock in Severus’ hand. The man shook his head. “It looks so strange,” he said with a breathy laugh. He raised himself to his elbows and considered the alien organ. “It’s just so... exposed, you know.” He reached down to run his fingertips over the exposed head, peeking out from the top of Severus’ fist. “It’s not as sensitive,” he observed scientifically.

Severus gave a snort of disbelief at the running commentary. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his words laden with intent. He leant forward, hands coming to rest at the sides of Harry’s head as he strategically lined his own erection to Harry’s, deliberately grinding the two together. He watched the clear blue eyes roll back as the man’s hips rocked upward to continue the sensation. Severus bent his head in to begin the slow exploration of a torso he’d once been so well-acquainted with. Harry’s hands began insistently tugging at his pants, and eventually Severus relented, rolling away to push them off completely.

Harry lost no time before rolling to drape himself along Severus’ side. The man’s fingers moved to stroke down his torso, circling around one nipple and then the other. All the while, his eyes, wide with curiosity, were trained on Severus’ face, watching his reaction.

“You’re going to have to talk me through this,” Harry said quietly. He bowed his head to lave his tongue around Severus’ nipple.

“Bite it,” Severus ordered, reaching again to take the other man’s erection in hand. Harry obliged, and Severus groaned at the exquisite pain of sharp teeth clamping down over the sensitive flesh.

“Like that,” Harry breathed, tongue darting out to sooth the tortured pink nub.

Severus hummed his approval, and Harry moved to treat the other in similar fashion. The man’s hand slid down along Severus’ belly before tentative fingers petted down the length of Severus’ cock. Severus held his breath a moment, releasing it with a breathy, “Ah!” when those fingers curled around him, expertly pulling his foreskin back, thumb sweeping the wetness over the glans.

Severus’ own hand stroked the other man in slow, deliberate movements. There was too little lubrication to do the job properly and so he reluctantly pulled away from his own pleasure, in favour of pushing the other man to lie on his back. He manoeuvred between Harry’s legs, his hands sliding to cup the man’s arse as his head bent to feast on the lean, hard stomach. He was pleased to learn that the man liked a bit of pain and thought he could spend all night inciting the delicious chorus of curses and encouragements.

But time was running out.

Severus licked his way down, catching the man’s cock under his chin. He looked up to see Harry, raised up on his elbows, watching him and breathing heavily through parted lips. Severus wrapped his fingers around the swollen organ and swirled his tongue around the head, flicking at the underside.

“Use your teeth,” Harry encouraged, his voice raw and breathless. Severus raised his eyes to meet the other man’s and groaned as he complied. The man’s answering hiss slithered straight down to his own neglected cock which was pressed uselessly against the mattress.

Severus dived in to swallow the man whole, his free hand moving to cup Harry’s balls, rolling them between his finger and thumb. He wondered briefly what constituted “too penetrative” and decided to test the waters. He brought his fingers up to wet them with his tongue before reaching his middle finger back.

He was pleased when Harry’s legs widened to accommodate his seeking finger. He teased the puckered entranced as he continued to work the man’s cock with tongue and lips, with the occasional light scrape of his teeth. Harry moaned nonsensically above him, bottom canting downward against the prodding digit. Severus obliged by dipping the finger into the tight hole and Harry let out a shout of approval, hips undecided as to whether to push down against the intrusion or up into Severus’ throat. Severus worked his finger in. This body was more accommodating than he imagined Harry’s might be.

“God don’t stop,” Harry pleaded above, his hips picking up a rhythm that pleased him. Encouraged, Severus let his finger be coaxed inside and, crooking it just so, he pressed against the hard nub. His own arousal increased exponentially at the feeling of the man going rigid with pleasure beneath him, the sound of the man’s surprised and ecstatic cry. Mr Potter, meet your prostate, he thought to himself, supremely satisfied to have been the one to introduce the two.

Severus continued the shallow thrusting and took the man into his throat.

“Cu-“ was all the warning he got before the man came. Severus milked the pulsing organ before sliding his lips up, licking the remnants from the angry red head. His finger slipped easily out. Harry’s body trembled through the aftershocks of pleasure. Severus knelt up to enjoy the sight, his hands now free to relieve some of his own aching need for release. He had little hope that he would come to such a spectacular finish, given the other man’s relative inexperience in the art of pleasuring men. He found he wasn’t at all disappointed by the thought.

Once recovered, Harry opened his eyes and gave a sated grin. “Thanks,” he said before pulling himself up to kneel in front of Severus. He kissed Severus soundly, eagerly licking and sucking his own (or rather the stranger’s) taste from Severus’ lips and tongue. Severus was a little surprised and immeasurably pleased at the man’s ardour. Harry’s batted Severus’ hand away, replacing it over Severus’ cock. The man broke out of the kiss to look down.

“Blessed is a fucking understatement,” he said in an awed voice. His eyes met Severus. “I can’t imagine how that fits...” The man trailed off as he gave a goofy grin.

“Trust me,” Severus said with a satisfied smirk. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Harry gave him a doubtful look before leaning in again to kiss him, beginning to stroke Severus at a slow, teasing pace. 

“Faster,” Severus breathed into Harry’s mouth, but the man just squeezed his cock firmly in response before continuing at the same maddening rate. Harry’s mouth began an assault on Severus’ neck, sucking and biting, licking and kissing the sensitive flesh. It occurred to Severus that Harry was a good lover – and would likely become a great gay lover if the man had been so inclined. He was attentive to the subtlety of Severus’ reactions. As Severus was fairly reserved in this area, he appreciated that at every slight hitch of breath, every quiet gasp, Harry was learning how to please him. The fingers of the man’s free hand came up to tease a hard nipple before pinching and twisting cruelly.

Severus’ breath escaped him at the heated pain blossoming from the tortured flesh, his cock twitched in the man’s hand. 

“You like pain,” Harry whispered into his skin.

Severus smiled to himself before opening his eyes to see the other man watching him with a rapt expression. “I like pain,” he allowed. His hand came up to cup the other man’s chin, thumb brushing over the bottom lip of that wide mouth. Harry dipped his head forward to suck it into the wet heat.

  


Severus bit his own lip, pulling in a quick breath through his nose. Harry twisted his nipple again sharply, eliciting a rare shout from Severus as his arousal spiked.

“Severus,” Harry whispered quietly, nuzzling Severus’ ear and blowing a well-aimed breath to stimulate the skin of Severus’ neck. “I want to suck you off,” he whispered. Severus’ stomach flipped over on itself at the sound of those words. Harry’s teeth scraped over his earlobe. “But I’ll be rubbish at it,” he laughed breathily. The admission surprised an answering laugh out of Severus.

“There’s no such thing as a bad blow job, Harry,” Severus teased, pulling back to regard the man with wonder. 

Harry met his gaze, looking at him through heavily lidded eyes. “Maybe,” he said, with an uncertain smile. “But I think I’d prefer... I mean...I want you to” He took a deep breath before saying hurriedly “fuckmymouth.” Harry offered a shy smile before sliding off the side of the bed, urging Severus to follow.

Severus, however, was one part shocked and three parts choking with the sudden need to do just as the man requested. Some reasonable and responsible part of him insisted, “You’ll choke,” thinking that the other man’s first taste of the experience should be fully under his own control.

“Yeah,” the man breathed eagerly, lowering himself to his knees at the side of the bed. 

Severus blinked, letting his feet rest firmly on the floor before standing up before the kneeling man. He let his fingers weave through the thick head of blond hair and was surprised to wish it was back to black. “You’re a man full of surprises, Mr Potter,” he said in a low voice.

An impish grin flashed at him, blue eyes raised to watch him through long thick lashes. “So are you,” Harry said. “Professor Snape,” he added with poorly suppressed amusement.

Severus’ eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching painfully in his chest. The gentle jibe drove home just how profoundly inappropriate the whole situation was. Despite the fact that the beautiful face staring up at him was that of near stranger – a young man who had simply breezed through his quiet life – this person staring from out those deceptively blue eyes knew him better than anyone else still alive. This man had seen the torments of his past and knew the masquerade that was his present. And there he was, kneeling in a perfect pose of submission, eagerly awaiting whatever Severus was willing to give. It was overwhelming and for a moment, Severus couldn’t breathe. It was dangerous.

_Irresistible._

Severus’ better judgement was so stunned by the whole affair that it could not form words to stop him. His libido drove him, and his dark side moaned ecstatically. This was so beautifully wrong in so many ways.

Severus’ hand closed around a handful of hair, yanking the man’s head backward, forcing his lips to part. “You’re a very twisted boy,” he said dangerously. His other hand wrapped around his cock, running it across the man’s mouth.

Harry made a little dying sound in the back of his throat, his tongue sweeping out to catch a taste. “Keep talking,” he whispered, fighting against Severus’ grip to gain access.

Severus gave a low, dark chuckle. “So eager,” he breathed and leant forward a bit further, allowing the glans to just dip between the other man’s parted lips. “Have you imagined this, Harry? Is this what made you so hard on my table?” As he spoke his teased the man’s mouth, pulling away to watch the pink tongue stretch out to chase him. “Shall we see how much you can take?” Harry gave a throaty, desperate groan. “Brace yourself, Mr Potter,” Severus said, a strange shiver of arousal washing through him as the name passed his lips.

Severus pulled the man’s head forward, holding his breath as he slid against the hot tongue and further still into the wet heat of that mouth. He watched the deliciously wide mouth of Eytan stretch to accommodate him. Look at me,” he ordered. “Don’t close your eyes,” he ordered, rather more unsteadily than he’d have liked. He couldn’t imagine this was going to last long, as wound up as he already was. He let out a long breath from his nose as he felt the head of his cock scrape over the roof of the man’s mouth. “Is that enough?” he asked.

He raised an eyebrow at the small shake of the man’s head. He had to be careful, he knew. There was nothing like sick to spoil the mood. The man needed to learn his limits and Severus was, for once, a willing teacher. He inched further forward, feeling the man’s tongue contract downward to open his throat. Harry’s breath came in quick loud gasps, his hands moving to Severus’ hips – to stop him, Severus thought. He was rather shocked to find himself pulled forward; to feel himself lodged in the man’s throat.

Harry’s groan vibrated around the tip of Severus’ cock.

“Fucking hell,” Severus breathed, giving up all pretence of control. A man of surprises indeed. Where the hell does a straight boy learn to do that? It was a conversation for another day, Severus decided as he saw those eyes meet his own, glittering with smugness.

Severus pulled back, hand releasing his cock in favour of fisting in the other man’s hair, which, he noted in passing, appeared to be lengthening and darkening under his touch. Severus’ hips jutted forward at the realisation that Harry was changing back. He closed his own eyes as he concentrated on the feel of that mouth enveloping him again and again with every thrust of his hips. The tongue moved tantalisingly whenever it was free to do so. He fancied he could feel the changes occurring and opened his eyes to see the teary green eyes staring up at him. The much smaller mouth stretched impossibly wide.

Harry. His Harry.

His knees went weak as he hurtled off the edge of pleasure, releasing a week’s worth of sexual tension down that beautifully pale golden throat. Harry pulled back a little, closing his eyes now as his tongue moved over Severus’ cock, sending little bursts of intense pleasure jolting through him.

When he was spent, he sank to his knees in front of the other man, who met his eyes with a candid gaze. For a brief paralysing moment, Severus was in love. He launched himself forward, taking care to hold the man’s back as he pushed him to the floor, plundering that mouth in what he now considered to be their first real kiss. Harry’s thighs parted to accept Severus’ weight between them, his renewed erection jutting up against Severus’ belly.

Severus pulled back to stare at that achingly familiar face. “I’m dying to know where a self-professed heterosexual learns to control his gag reflexes,” he said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Harry laughed in delight. A faint blush coloured his cheeks. “Toys,” he said simply. “Ginny...” He seemed to think better of bringing her into the conversation. He shook his head. “My sex life isn’t exactly... normal.”

“Nothing about you has ever been normal, Harry,” Severus pointed out, intrigued by the multitude of images the word “toys” had inspired.

“Fair point,” Harry snorted.

Severus rolled off to the side to lie on his back, staring up into the shadows of the ceiling. “So how did you find it?” he asked.

“Oh...” Harry said, looking over. “Er... bitter,” he decided. Severus gave the man a puzzled look. “A bit salty. But you know, I’ve already... Tasted. Mine.” His cheeks burnt with the admission.

It dawned on Severus what the man was referring to. His laughter echoed in the room. “I was referring to your experiment with circumcision,” he specified, grinning stupidly, but refusing to attribute the word ‘endearing’ the man’s initial response.

“Ah.” Harry sniggered at himself. “It was probably the best blow job I’ve ever had,” he said. “But I prefer mine.” Severus could see the man’s hand cup his tackle as though to reassure himself. “More feeling,” he added. “It was weird, really. The head is a lot less sensitive, but the rest of it seems to... dunno, compensate.” Harry turned his head with a slightly embarrassed grin. He put on a serious face. “It’s always the same, eh? You leave the club with a gorgeous sex god and you wind up with... well, me.” 

Severus blinked and shook his head. “Yes. Such a disappointment to find some beautiful green-eyed demon choking on your cock,” he said dryly.

He heard the other man take a sharp breath. “Fucking hell, Severus. It should be illegal for you to say the word ‘cock’.”

Severus grinned at the ceiling. “Sensory memory?” he teased.

Harry sniggered. “Something like that.”

Severus rolled onto this side and propped his head with his hand. “Am I correct in my understanding, Mr Potter,” he began silkily, trailing his fingers down the man’s sparsely haired chest, “that I might have an effect on _this_ body as well?” He batted Harry’s hand away from its self-gratifying hold and wrapped his own hand around the man’s arousal, noting the thickness and weight of it in his hand.

“Every body,” Harry whispered unsteadily.

“You’re quite certain you’re straight?” Severus asked with an amused smile. He gazed down at the heavily lidded eyes and moved his hand slowly.

“I’m not certain of anything,” Harry replied honestly. He gave a wry smile. “Except that your hands are magic,” he laughed.

Severus leant in to kiss the grin from the man’s lips. Harry’s hand curled into his hair, eagerly kissing in return. The floor was cold and hard beneath them, but Severus scarcely noticed as he pulled out of the kiss to explore the uncharted territory stretched so tantalisingly next to him. His teeth latched onto a small tight nipple, pulling it sharply outward. He could feel an answering twitch in the man’s prick, Harry’s eager shout coming simultaneously.

Oh, what he could do to this body, given time and unlimited access. He imagined sinking into an impossibly tight silken heat and his own cock twitched sympathetically. Never mind, he told himself, he would take what was on offer. His tongue trailed a path to the other nipple, teasing it with playful flicks before biting the skin next to it.

He was rewarded with fingers digging into his back and could imagine the marks they would make were he to pound into the young virgin flesh. Some small voice whispered to him that they still had one full day. That anything was possible. He pushed that thought away. One night, he sternly told his imagination.

Harry’s vocal reactions to his attentions spurred him on. The man’s hips jutted upward into his fist. So eager. So honest and reactive. “Get on your hands and knees,” Severus urged him. Harry’s eyes snapped open to meet his own. Severus could see uncertainty there, and so he gave a reassuring smile. “Nothing too penetrative,” he teased, noting the relief that flashed in Harry’s eyes before he flipped over to comply. Severus knelt behind him, taking in the sight for a moment before closing his eyes to burn the vision in his memory. Something to relive later. Again and again. One hand petted down the man’s back before both hands moved to slide over the golden skin of the man’s arse. Severus sat back onto his feet before leaning forward to kiss one rounded cheek.

The air was filled with Harry’s quick and eager breathing. Severus ran a long finger in the crevice between the perfect firm cheeks and balanced on the man’s tail bone. The breathing stopped momentarily. Severus’s teeth closed around the skin of one round cheek as he let his finger continue on its path, tripping lightly over the tight entrance and further to press firmly along Harry’s perineum.

Severus could hear his name slither out of the other man’s mouth. It was the softest, quietest plea imaginable. A prayer. And Severus wanted more than that. He kissed down the trail his finger had just visited, letting his nose drag slowly along and as his tongue balanced where his finger had sat teasingly just before, Severus was rewarded with a louder, needier moan. A whimper to encourage him further.

  


But he wanted more than that.

He aimed a perfect breath against the needy hole. His tongue slid just beyond it, to slip behind the man’s bollocks. Harry’s hips jutted backward in defiance of Severus’ careful torture, and Severus punished them with another firm bite – to the right cheek this time.

“Fuck,” Harry cursed, his hand reaching down to wrap around his cock. 

Severus snatched Harry’s wrist. “If you prefer to pleasure yourself, I can leave you to it,” he said cruelly.

“Evil,” Harry breathed, but he released his grip and moved his hand back into place.

Severus chuckled sadistically. “Patience, Mr Potter,” he said in a deep velvety voice. He ran his tongue over the red marks left by his teeth. “I realise this might be a foreign concept to you,” he added.  
His fingertips circled lightly over the beautifully toned arse once more as he drank in the incredibly arousing sight of the virgin arse raised up, on offer. It was all he could do not to moan, himself. His fingernails dragged up the backs of the man’s thighs as Harry panted through an open mouth. Severus was determined to have the man begging to be taken by the end of all this. He felt certain the man wanted it. He was gagging for it.

Severus’ tongue slid along the gentle curve where the man’s arse met his leg. His nose slid up along the perineum, running over the puckered flesh until it met once more with the tip of Harry’s tailbone. Severus let out a hot breath over the man’s entrance.

“God, please,” Harry prayed.

“Please what,” Severus whispered back, kissing the inside of Harry’s arse cheek.

“Please...” Harry breathed again. “Sir?” He laughed breathily.

It was either the word or the uncertainty with which it was said that effectively tweaked the taut string of Severus’ careful control. Severus’ tongue speared out to stab at the tight hole. Harry gave a low moan of gratitude, hips arching higher, eager for more of the same treatment. The puckered flesh was unyielding. Severus swirled his tongue around it, thumbs hooking over the man’s arse cheeks to spread them wider, opening him to allow access.

When he pulled back again, Harry’s body sank with disappointment, only to go rigid again as Severus pressed the pad of his thumb against the wet hold. “Do you fuck yourself with your fingers, Harry?” Severus asked, his voice cutting through the urgent breathing. He imagined the man’s checks going pink as he admitted, “Yes.” Severus rewarded the honest response by circling his thumb around the tight flesh.

With his other hand he reached for his trousers to fetch his wand. “How many?” he demanded.  
Harry’s breath hitched. “One,” he breathed, his hips backing against Severus’ slowly exploring thumb. The tip pushed into the tight ring.

“Toys?” The amusement rang clearly in Severus’ voice.

Harry moaned. “No.”

“Accio lubricant.” Severus was surprised to see a phial soaring from Potter’s own night stand. “Well, well,” he teased. He removed his finger to unstopper the phial. It was better quality than the muggle rubbish he’d grown accustomed in the last few years. He let the thin liquid dribble over his index and middle fingers. He looked up to see Harry watching him. He raised an eyebrow. “Have you used this since you’ve been here?” he asked, his index finger finding its way back to Harry’s entrance.

The man held his gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He nodded.

“Despite your injury?” Severus said with a raised eyebrow and a mock reproach.

Harry laughed. “Needs must,” he replied.

Severus held the man’s gaze as he slipped his slick index finger into his arse. Harry’s mouth fell open in silent approval before his head dropped to the floor. “When?” 

“This morning,” the man admitted to his hands. “Last night... Every night.” Severus cut off the man’s laugh by jabbing inward, curving his finger down against the pleasure point inside. “Fuck!” Harry coughed. Severus smirked smugly and began moving his finger in and out, twisting it to loosen the reluctant flesh. The man’s whimpers and moans were exquisite.

“Whenever I think of your from this day forward, this is what I’ll see,” Severus said, in his deepest darkest voice. The man’s body jerked as Severus found his prostate again. Severus let his finger circle around it. “You, forehead to the floor and arse on offer.” Harry moaned and Severus pulled his index finger nearly all the way out before pulling Harry’s cock downward to tease the man’s foreskin over the swollen head. He leant in once more to swirl his tongue over the man’s entrance, managing to squeeze the tip into the resisting hole now, coaxing it open.

  


Harry’s whimpers came frantically now, his knees sliding wider as though to welcome even more of Severus inside him. Severus’s index finger came back, poking in and out quickly before returning with a friend. Severus teased round the outside, bringing his two fingers tight together before rocking them inward slowly. His other hand stroked the man’s cock reassuringly, steadily, but nowhere near enough to bring the man off. Harry’s body went still as the fingers forced the tight ring of muscle to open a bit wider. “Breathe,” Severus instructed before dragging his teeth once more over the man’s arse cheeks. 

He could feel the man begin to relax around his fingers as Severus continue his insistent but gentle rhythm. “Too penetrative?” he asked.

Harry gave a weak laugh before quickly drawing back the breath as Severus pushed even further inside him, scissoring his fingers to spread him wider before pressing into his knuckle angling his fingers to stroke either side of the pleasure centre buried within. Harry’s hips bucked back against his hand. 

“Shall I tell you how the memory continues, Harry?” Severus asked, smiling at the moaned assent. “Yes?”

“God...”

Severus continued his rhythmic assault. “Yes?”

“Yes.” A breathy plea.

“I followed him to the dungeons. It was quiet in our room. Have you ever been tied to your bed?” A moan that might have been affirmative. “Evan had permanent cuffs on his,” Severus told him as he pulled back the man’s foreskin to gather the wetness leaking from his eager prick. “As you so graciously point out, Harry, I have been blessed.” Severus grinned, running a fingernail over the sensitive tip as he continued to move his fingers in an out in a relentless assault on the man’s prostate.

“You’re going to kill me,” Harry complained weakly.

“A little death,” Severus promised, fingers pulling nearly all the way out and then stabbing inward again. “Evan liked that I was blessed. He stripped me down and cuffed me to his bed. He seated himself on me. No preparation. Little lubrication. Shall we try another finger?”

“Yes,” Harry said in a tight hiss.

Severus slowly fit another inside, Harry’s legs sliding even wider along the floor. Severus picked up his rhythm again, pushing and twisting his fingers into the tight channel, and soon frantic breathing gave way to eager whimpers that seeped from the man’s throat with every outward breath.

“I think we’ll make you come like this, Harry,” Severus whispered, releasing the man’s cock in favour of leaning forward over the man, tasting the skin along the sharp angle of his shoulder blade. His own cock, half hard so soon after becoming acquainted with that delightful mouth, pressed against the man’s arse. Harry gave a small, desperate gasp as his cock was abandoned, but thrust back to meet the probing fingers, grinding against Severus’ hip.

“You’re not to touch yourself,” Severus warned. “I want you to concentrate on the feeling of my fingers moving inside you,” he breathed, stretching up to bite the back of the man’s neck. “I want you to imagine what I would feel like in there. Every. Blessed. Inch.” He punctuated each word with a kiss along Harry’s shoulders.

“Fucking hell,” the other man breathed in an awed voice.

Severus pulled his fingers partially out and then thrust them back in hard, scraping over the man’s prostate. The choked shout he was rewarded with drove him to do it again and again. His own hips ground sympathetically, and Harry’s hips arched back to meet his hand, to grind against Severus’ swelling cock. Severus deliberately massaged and probed deep inside and before long, tight, urgent grunts were spilling feely from the other man’s lips. Every word he could not quite form fed Severus’ desire to take the man now – restrictions be damned.

The quiet, tight hiss of a silent scream came a split second before Harry’s back arched, his body spectacularly suspended as he came. He squeezed tightly around Severus’ torturous fingers, pulsing as his come spilled to the floor in hot, sticky streams.

When Severus’ fingers slipped out, Harry collapsed forward, straightening his knees with a pained hiss, completely disregarding the mess he was slipping into. Severus moved to lie on the floor next to him, rolling onto his back and turning his head to watch the other man recover his wits.

“I had no idea that was even possible,” Harry whispered in wonder as a shiver ran visibly through his body. “Is it always like that?”

Severus chuckled. “No,” he admitted. “It’s much easier to achieve with fingers if you’re with someone who knows what he’s doing.” Severus smirked.

Harry closed his eyes, his cheek resting against the backs of his hands. “I suppose I’m lucky then,” he said wryly. “That was fucking intense,” he said with a languid groan. “You’re brilliant.”

Severus turned his smile to the ceiling. The other man was quite brilliant himself, he thought. Harry reached a hand over to brush his shoulder. Severus’ own covered it.

“One night, eh?”

Something akin to panic twisted in Severus’ gut with an indescribable longing. He grunted. One night, he reaffirmed to himself.

“Are you sure?” Harry said. “Because I could do that again.” The younger man laughed.

Severus took a deep breath. “Harry –“ Regret stabbed at his insides. He couldn’t say what the regret was for.

“I know.” Harry scooted closer, rising up to kiss Severus on the mouth softly. His hand slid down to Severus’ renewed erection. Severus’ hand flew to stop the other man’s. 

“Don’t start that again,” he said, amused.

Harry grinned. “Yeah. The night might never end,” he said ironically.

Severus made a small sound of dismay before pulling himself upright. Harry followed, nose wrinkling at the feeling of his skin peeling off the sticky mess on the floor.

“Mr Potter,” Severus said with a mock bow. “It has been an unexpected pleasure.” He smiled before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to the man’s forehead.

“Sure I can’t take care of that for you? It’s the least I can do, you know.” 

“I think I can manage,” Severus said blandly and bent to gather his discarded clothes, his wand. He plucked up a phial of lubricant and handed it over to the man. “I trust you’ll put this to good use,” Severus said with a grin that communicated with utter certainty that a lone finger would no longer quite satisfy the man after the night’s activities.

“Undoubtedly,” Harry said with a smile that Severus planned to interpret repeatedly when he was alone.

“Good night, Harry,” he said when it became clear that there was little else to say.

Harry’s lips pursed into a grim line for a moment before he nodded. “Good night, Severus.”

After a trip to the bathroom and the necessary nightly ablutions, Severus found himself in bed, listening to the sound of water running, toilet flushing and bare feet padding against the wood floor. He held his breath as he heard the feet hesitate outside his bedroom door. His heart thudded against his chest, echoing in his ears. Part of him called to the man outside, welcoming the chaos he would bring to Severus’ quiet life. Another part of him begged the stupid man to carry on and leave him in peace.

The latter won out, and Severus released his breath as he heard the sound of Harry’s bedsprings groan under his weight. At length Severus’ heart calmed, his breathing grew slower and he succumbed to the call of an alcohol-induced sleep.


	4. Resolution

Harry awoke with the sun, which filled his room with the golden glow of sunrise reflected against the snow outside. He blinked his eyes open, closing them again when his brain clenched with pain at the assault of brightness. The rest of his body felt pleasantly drained. The memory of the night before was available in stark clarity, as though it had been playing on loop in his head as he slept.

Harry listened for signs of life in the chalet, but none were to be heard. A peaceful quiet reigned there, and this morning, not even Severus’ quiet shuffling disturbed the air. He turned his attention then to his body and took stock. His hangover didn’t seem too bad, considering the copious amount of rum and coke he’d consumed in a relatively short space of time. His body felt heavy and relaxed, skin still tingling with the memory of the night before. There was a low ache in his arse that throbbed over emptiness with every beat of his heart. His abdomen was tight with desire, which was nothing new to wake up to, but this was a more directed desire. It had a name.

Severus.

Amazingly enough, he was free of regret and embarrassment at the memory of his abandonment of the night before. He suspected that might change when he saw Severus, but at the moment he was filled with a sort of contentment that had become exceedingly rare in the past few years. A certain confidence that came with knowing what one wanted. And he knew now what he wanted.

Well, he knew what he wanted _today_.

Mindful of the limitations surrounding that desire, he was determined nevertheless to fulfil it. There was only one day left, and if he had his way, it would be a memorable one. The thought came with a small twinge of trepidation, but it wasn’t the fear of anticipated pain. Harry had grown fond of the right sort of pain over the years, and he found he was actually looking forward to the experience.

His wariness came, rather, from finding himself at a turning point. The line drawn at penetration was rather arbitrary, he now realised. He was loyal by nature. While he was fairly certain Ginny didn’t count oral sex as infidelity (a philosophy he had eagerly adopted only the night before), the intimacy involved with being so utterly connected to another person crossed a line for Harry. It was the difference between curious discovery and calculated betrayal.

But the desire was stronger than anything he’d felt in years. It made him feel alive, and Harry couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt like that. It was a painful reminder that he’d been living a lie. His relationship with Ginny was a cover, held in place by his fears of abandonment. Ginny was his best friend. He knew her as well as he knew himself. She was strong-willed and her attitude toward life was admirable. She was the only person he’d ever loved.

At some point all of that stopped being enough. He loved her out of habit now. The passion had died to a smouldering resentment that Harry believed to be mutual. They loved one another like family. The sex was varied and mostly satisfying, but it was a pure physical satisfaction with no real desire behind it. Habit and routine were the foundations upon which his whole world was built, and it was now hanging in the balance.

Or maybe he was over-thinking things again. He felt reasonably certain that Ginny wouldn’t really mind his experimentation with men. It was just sex, after all, and it wasn’t as though it could possibly continue past tomorrow. Even if Harry wanted it to. Harry refused to consider the question of whether he wanted it to or not. It was a moot point.

The important thing was that Harry had a goal; albeit a short term goal. He had a resolution--not exactly a life-changing one, but a resolution anyway. He made a decision, and he would see it through.

Harry was going to be buggered by day’s end. A new line was drawn.

Harry slipped from the bed and found his pyjama bottoms and then searched his trunk for the phial of pink liquid he knew was there. He made his way to the loo to rid himself of the litre or so of rum and coke that fuelled his courage the night before. It occurred to him that he could use some of that now. He pushed away the thought, determined that today, all his faculties would remain intact.

Most of his faculties, anyway.

Teeth brushed, face and bits washed, Harry went to prepare two mugs of tea, before padding back down the corridor to Severus’ room. He had never been up before Severus before. He decided this could only work to his advantage. Tea in hand, he made his way toward the comparably sombre bedroom of his housemate, where the drawn shutters cast the room in perpetual night.

One night, Severus had said. Here in this room, morning had not yet come.

Harry stared down at the shadowy form sleeping on his side. Harry set down the mugs of tea and then turned back to the bed to see the dark eyes glittering at him. Harry gave a somewhat nervous smile. Severus groaned and rolled onto his back, palm pressing against his forehead. “What time is it?” the man croaked.

Harry smirked. “Just gone midnight, I think,” Harry answered with a straight face, losing the effort when Severus cast a bemused glance in his direction. He could see the man’s eyes dart out the door where the light from Harry’s room spilled into the corridor.

“Particularly bright moon,” Harry explained. He pulled the phial from his pocket and handed it over. “This may help.”

Severus plucked the phial from Harry’s hand and rose up to his elbows. The blankets slid down to pool around his waist. Harry’s eyes took in the sight, and watched the man’s throat working over the potion, head tilting back. Severus slumped back to his pillow with a deep sigh.

“There’s tea,” Harry said. The embarrassment that had been held at bay now arrived in blazing colours at the memory of kneeling on the floor, arse in the air “on offer” as Severus put it. The long, able fingers that were now covering the man’s eyes had driven him to the most earth-shattering orgasm he’d ever experienced.

Severus pulled himself to a seated position, reaching over to take the cup of tea. Harry became fixated at the sight of the man as the blanket only partially covered his lap. Harry’s heart sped up. He clasped his hands in front of him to hide a rising problem.

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked, his voice low. There was a hint of teasing to his tone.

“Great,” Harry said, trying to sound like he meant it. “Er... Sev...” He took a deep breath to continue, grappling to regain the confidence with which he’d awoken. Desperately seeking his legendary courage and finding both lacking. 

“Don’t torture yourself, Harry,” Severus said a little coldly. “Chalk it up to experience.”

Harry closed his mouth and looked at the man. “Yeah,” he managed to say after a moment. What an experience, his brain exclaimed. He averted his eyes, and they became once more stuck on the smooth curve of Severus’ hip. The sharp angle of the hipbone. He could see the man’s ribcage expanding whenever he took a breath. Harry licked his lips, wanting very much to taste every inch of skin on display.

Severus cleared his throat and Harry’s eyes tore away from their gawking to see the man smirking at him. “So... Breakfast?” Harry said weakly.

“I’ll stick with tea,” Severus answered, one long leg slipping from under the covers to hang off the side.

“Right,” Harry said, flustered and frantic now to leave the room. He decided that pants would be an absolute necessity today. “I’ll just leave you to...” He trailed off as he turned to flee the room, going back to his own room and closing the door behind him. He slumped backward on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Last day, he reminded himself. Last chance. It was this thought that kept him up long after Severus had taken his leave the night before. He’d already wasted the better part of a week in confusion and indecision. This was it. If he wanted this, it would have to be now.

And he wanted it. More specifically, he wanted _him_. It couldn’t be anyone else.

He heard the door to the bathroom close and slipped back out of bed. He decided to get dressed in an effort to at least attempt to disguise his thoughts until it became clear what the other man’s reaction to them would be. He realised that he’d left his tea in the man’s room and snuck back in to fetch it before going to the kitchen to make himself some toast with blueberry jam. He took his breakfast to the bench on the porch, cast a warming spell around himself and stared out to contemplate his present situation.

One night. It was such a ridiculous condition, really. One more day and night couldn’t possible make this... whatever it was... any more ill-advised than it was. And Harry wasn’t all together convinced it was ill-advised. It might be true that Harry was an Emotional Wreck, as Severus so diplomatically put it. His life outside the isolation of the chalet was complicated. But sex wasn’t complicated. Sex was very straightforward.

He supposed Severus was worried about having his own life complicated. While Harry had surely entertained the idea of running away once or twice, he would never seriously consider it. He had no desire to drink Polyjuice for the rest of his life, and fading into the background was not really an option for someone who had the most famous facial scar in the world. He enjoyed Severus’ company – more than he ever imagined he would – but he would not be willing to ruin all that Severus had built for the sake of brilliant sex and engaging conversation.

Harry sighed, watching his breath cloud once it reached the edge of his warmth bubble. Sex was straightforward, but sex with this man wasn’t, really. The two men had agreed that whatever happened between them would mean nothing, but that could never really be true. It meant that Harry wasn’t quite as straight as he’d assumed he was. It meant that he actually got off sucking cock, which was beyond his comprehension. It meant, furthermore, that the quiet little holidays he took year after year had the potential to be considerably less quiet if he could only convince the other man that he wouldn’t ...

What? Fall in love?

Not bloody likely, Harry mentally scoffed.

Ok. He might feel a certain amount of affection toward Severus. For the man he’d been and the man he had become. Harry would have a hard time naming one other living person he respected as much as he did Severus Snape. And this week, he’d begun to like the man. Really like him. He was quick-witted and wickedly funny. Harry even managed to appreciate his candour, although normally it left him slightly wounded. And now ... well ...

All right. He might be a bit ... besotted. But he felt certain that would go away if he could only just finish what was started the night before. He wanted the man. Achingly.

The door opened and Severus came out with a steaming mug of tea. His hair fell in wet strands around his face. He wore his habitual loose black trousers and a black jumper. His feet were nestled in fur-lined black slippers. The man was a shadow in the brilliant white world surrounding them.

Harry gave a small smile. “Morning.” His nervousness was back again.

“All right?” Severus asked, seating himself next to Harry, within the bubble of warmth. Their shoulders brushed together. While this was nothing new, Harry had never been so conscious of the one spot where their bodies connected.

“Hm,” Harry managed. He raised his mug to his lips to find that his tea had gone cold. His equally cold, uneaten toast balanced on his thigh.

“Do you have anything in particular you’d like to do today?” Severus said impassively. Harry imagined he can hear a note of smirking suggestion in that tone, but the man’s expression betrayed none of it.

Harry cleared his throat, his heart thundering in his chest for no apparent reason. “Nothing in particular,” he answered. His voice cracked like a teenager’s. In truth, he had a rather long list of things he’d be interested in discovering in the little time he had left with the man. None of these would have been in line with the drunken gentlemen’s agreement of the night before. “You?”

He met Severus’ dark gaze and his stomach jumped up into his throat. The top of his list, he thought would be to bite that spot there below the man’s ear. Then to lick down the pale stretch of throat.

Harry’s tongue swept over his lips sympathetically. He realized he’d been gaping when he raised his eyes again. He shifted uncomfortably and looked back out into the morning. He remembered suddenly that he’d asked a question, but had no idea if it had been answered.

“Are you going to be all right?” The voice was dripping with amusement at Harry’s expense. 

Harry tried for an innocent expression and failed miserably. He quickly gave up the act and covered his face with his hand, index finger tracing over his scar.

“I’m curious as to what bothers you most. That you cheated on your girlfriend? That you cheated with a man? Or is it that the man was me?” Severus’ tone spoke of ambivalent curiosity, but his expression was somewhat guarded.

Harry gave the man a blank look until his brain caught up with the conversation. He shook his head. “None of that,” he said adamantly. He held up a finger. “Ginny isn’t likely to mind. I told you it’s not cheating if it’s gay.” He shrugged as though to say, _not my rules_ , and then pointed to his second finger but was interrupted before he could get his second point out.

“You plan to tell her?” Severus’ eyes were wide with surprise.

“I wouldn’t do anything I couldn’t tell her about,” Harry said quite seriously. That was what made the difference between cheating and not cheating, he knew. It may be a fucked up moral code, but it was an honest one. Harry came back to his second point. “It was strange to be with a bloke,” he admitted. “But good strange.” He offered a smirk of his own and then took a deep breath. “And you... well, I can’t imagine doing anything like that with someone other than you.” He felt his face heat at the admission. “I’ve never fancied a bloke like that before,” he added, digging himself a little deeper. “Apart from maybe Bill Weasley, but I was like fourteen or something, so it hardly counts.”

Severus snorted and nodded his head. “But entirely understandable,” he conceded.

Harry grinned, pleased that at least they were talking about it now. The first hurdle had been passed.

“So, no regrets?” Severus said, stretching his legs out in front of him and relaxing back.

Harry snorted. Oh, there were regrets... “Two,” he said, taking the plunge.

“Two,” Severus repeated, using his tried and true method of interrogation. And despite Harry’s training, he still fell for it every time.

“Well, three,” he amended. He gave a sheepish grin. Severus stared at him in expectant silence. Harry steeled himself for the next hurdle, which might help to determine the way the rest of the day would be spent.

“I regret wasting a week in denial,” Harry said candidly. His voice was low and thankfully steady. “I regret drinking so much last night,” he continued. “And I regret ... letting you leave with Unfinished Business.” He took up his cold mug to chase away the last admission and waited for Severus’ reaction. He imagined he could see a light flush fall over Severus’ cheekbones, but couldn’t be certain if that wasn’t there from the cold.

“Unfinished business?” Severus repeated. “As I recall, you finished rather spectacularly.” The man’s smirk teamed up with a dark, smouldering gaze to effectively liquefy Harry’s insides and send them swirling. He couldn’t reply. Spectacular was a pretty accurate description.

“My own finish was surprisingly impressive.” The smirk grew to a suggestive smile. “Rather commendable for an amateur.”

Harry lost the fight with his blush. He laughed from behind his hands. “Maybe,” he said after his blood had settled once more in his trousers. “But... I think we can do better.” He gave an impish grin.

Severus raised an eyebrow. Judging by the man’s cool demeanour, he couldn’t possibly be similarly affected. Of course, this man had lived a double life for years and so maybe he just covered better than Harry. Maybe. Doubt crept in. Last night in the body of some sex god, Harry felt much more certain. Back to normalcy, maybe he just didn’t appeal anymore.

“We had an agreement,” Severus said in a low voice.

Harry nodded. “One night,” he remembered aloud. “Which was technically made this morning, so by my calculations...” Harry laughed. He was humiliating himself, he knew. He stood to go back inside. “Snow-shoeing it is, then,” he said with a forced grin and then made his way back into the chalet. He heard the other man follow.

Harry emptied out his tea and refilled his mug from the pot that Severus had apparently made just before. “Or we could try skiing again,” he said, looking up now with a brave face. “My back’s much better,” he chattered.

Severus gave him a long look before tapping his wand against the dining table. As it had every day that week, the table transformed. “I think I should be the judge of that.”

Harry’s mind reeled with the change of direction. He shot an amused look at the man before stepping around the counter. “If you want me to take my clothes off, Severus, you don’t need a pretext,” he said wryly.

Severus smirked. “Get your clothes off, Harry,” he said silkily. Harry imagined he could feel the voice vibrating in his bollocks.

He pulled his shirt over his head easily. His shoulder was much better. It twinged a bit when he raised his arms over his head, but that he could raise them at all was proof of his progress. He could feel the appraising gaze slide over him like a caress and an answering physical response occurred in the tight confines of his trousers. Luckily, his response was largely invisible. He’d managed to get through without any “natural responses” since that first day by begging off just before examination to have a nice, hot shower and a wank.

Today, he had no such luck. But today, he didn’t mind so much. Let the man see it. 

Harry obediently moved his body at the silent commands of Severus’ capable hands. By now, it had become routine. Only now, the touch of those hands was a little too familiar, the fingers lingered a little too long. The knowledge of where those fingers had been just hours ago was ever-present in Harry’s mind. The skin below them tingled. Every now and again a perfectly aimed breath would fall over his neck, and Harry’s skin tensed under the attack. Having to contend with the calculated touches, the overwhelming proximity and now the crystal clear image of Severus naked in all his long, lithe and pale glory, Harry wasn’t certain how much more he could take of pretence.

Because that was what this was. Severus was deliberately torturing him, knowing full well the effect he was having. Harry couldn’t believe that anything Severus did was accidental. Well, Harry thought, two could play at that game.

“Lean forward,” Severus said in a voice that was pure sex. Oh, the man knew which buttons to push. But Harry had always known how to push Severus’ right back. Harry complied, jutting his arse back just enough to collide with the man’s hips. He smirked as he heard the man gasp. Fingers gripped hard around his hip to stop any further movement. Severus’ own hips drew back out of reach.

“Like that?” Harry said, the innocence in his tone belied by a wicked grin.

“Precisely like that, Mr Potter,” the man said, his voice laden with amusement and something darker. Severus’ fingers began crawling along Harry’s muscles, prodding in slow exploratory strokes.

“How do I feel?” Harry asked, pleased with the steadiness of his voice.

“Tight,” Severus answered, the word clicking against his teeth. Harry made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “But you’re responding well,” Severus continued, dragging his fingertips down the length of Harry’s spine. Harry reached forward to grip the table for support as a series of shivers wracked his body in the wake of Severus’ touch.

“Any pain?” Severus asked, suddenly professional again.

Harry straightened back up and turned to face the man. He leant back against the table. “In my back?” he asked, meeting the man’s eyes brazenly.

“In your back,” Severus specified with an exasperated look.

Harry shook his head.

Severus lifted an eyebrow. “Anywhere else?” His eyes dropped down Harry’s body.

Harry grinned before pulling his expression under control. “More of an ache,” he specified.

“Anything I can do?”

“I’m not sure it would fall within the agreed upon parameters of your service.” Harry lost control of his grin again.

Severus smiled back before saying seriously, “Perhaps a new service agreement could be drawn, Mr Potter.”

“I’m not sure it’s in the area of your professional expertise, Mr Snape.”

Severus stepped forward slowly. “You might be surprised at the breadth of my expertise. I am assured I have magic hands.”

Harry held the man’s gaze for a moment. His heart lurched about in his chest nervously. “And if I said it wasn’t your hands I was interested in?” His smile caught between his teeth. He let his eyes drop meaningfully.

Severus gave him a long look. “There are other non-invasive options to relieve aches,” he said carefully.

Harry shook his head. “Not this ache, Severus.” He stepped forward to close the gap between them, tilting his head back to gauge the man’s response. Severus stepped away, putting his hands on Harry’s chest to maintain a safe distance.

“As alluring a prospect as that might be, Harry...”

Harry wasn’t having it. He’d not summoned all the courage he had only to have his offer rejected. He thought he’d beat the man at his own game. “Alluring,” he repeated, insinuating himself into Severus’ arms and rising onto his toes to scrape his teeth over that pale neck that had mocked him all morning.

Severus’ hand came up to grab a fistful of Harry’s hair, not pulling him away, but threatening to. Harry ran his tongue across the marks he’d left. “I hardly think I’m the appropriate person to have that honour,” Severus continued relentlessly.

“I can’t think of a more appropriate person,” Harry disagreed, hands sliding under Severus’ t-shirt, over the smooth skin below.

Severus tightened his grip on Harry’s hair and pulled Harry’s head back. “I’ll hurt you,” the man promised. Threatened? Warned.

Harry grinned up at the man and dragged his palm over the man’s clear interest. “I know. I’ve seen you,” Harry reminded the man whose eyes became just that little bit darker. Harry grinned, slipping his fingers just under the waist of Severus’ trousers. He pulled the man closer. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said softly.

Severus let himself be drawn nearer. Harry’s heart thundered in celebration of his nearly won battle. “What happened to nothing too penetrative?”

“I’ve redrawn the line,” Harry grinned, lifting himself to his toes to stop any retort that Severus might have had. Harry pressed his lips firmly against Severus’ in what he was considering privately as their first kiss. A second later, Severus responded, hands sliding down and around to grab Harry by the arse and pull him upward, mouth simultaneously descending as Severus released his careful control.

As Harry’s tongue stole forward to explore, Harry’s fingers slid up under Severus’ t-shirt to stroke up his back. He was determined to memorise this body before the day was out. In the frantic frolicking of the night before, a thorough exploration had been neglected. As Harry didn’t know when he’d have the opportunity to do this again, and as he was now in his own, admittedly less perfect body, he now had an objective for the next 24 hours.

Discovery, in a word, and just at the moment he was discovering that Severus Snape was very good at kissing. Not that he had much by way of comparison, but there was just the right amount of tongue, lips, teeth. Just wet enough to facilitate motion.

Severus’ leg slipped forward, insinuating itself between Harry’s thighs, one hand stroked up over Harry’s bare back to rest at the back of his head. The other hand pulled Harry upward, sending a spike of pleasure through him. He broke away from the kiss with a gasp, redirecting his attention back to the spot under Severus’ ear. His teeth nipped sharply at the skin there, while his hands busied themselves with divesting the man of his shirt. He began to tug the older man toward the sofa, when he was stopped.

Severus gave him a stern look. “Not with those colours,” he said.

Harry barked with laughter. “All right, then,” he said. “Floor, counter, table...” He made a broad sweeping gesture with his hand. “Cliff side,” he grinned.

Severus rolled his eyes and then turned toward the bedrooms, far too calmly for Harry’s taste. The man made to continue to his own bedroom when Harry stopped him, pulling him sharply into his own room. “I won’t see anything in there,” he said, reaching up to remove his glasses and putting them on the table.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I’d have thought you’d seen all there is to see.”

Harry shrugged, undoing his jeans. “Last night I was rather pissed and,” he gave a breathy sort of laugh as his pushed his jeans down, “Gagging for it.”

He was favoured with a genuine grin. “Interesting choice of words,” Severus said wryly. He followed Harry’s lead and removed his own trousers, placing his wand on the bedside table. Harry’s eyes focussed on the man’s cloth-clad erection, straining against the fabric. He swallowed a little nervously.

“The details are a bit fuzzy,” he said with a slightly awed tone. How the hell had he got that in his mouth? The man he’d been the night before had had a much wider mouth than his, he remembered, licking his much thinner lips. He raised his eyes to see the other man watching him with a guarded look. Harry offered a small smile.

“We still have some Ogdens, if you think it will help,” said Severus dryly. Amusement glinted in his dark eyes.

Harry took a steeling breath and gave a little laugh. “I want to do this sober. Unless... do you? Want a drink?” 

Severus stepped forward, reaching out to run his fingers down Harry’s side. The simple touch caused his entire body to go taut with anticipation. “I think I’ll need all the self-control I possess,” Severus said in a low voice. “You’re sure this is what you want?” He pulled Harry against him, his cock stabbing forward into Harry’s stomach as though demonstrating the “this” in question.

Harry’s hands went to Severus’ shoulders, his mouth moving to explore the man’s collarbone. “I can’t remember wanting something more,” he whispered into the man’s skin. He raised himself to his toes, stomach sliding deliberately against that hard length, and kissed Severus firmly.

He could actually recall the last time he wanted something so badly. It would have been his first time with Ginny. He could only hope that this time the experience wouldn’t be as awkward and humiliating. Harry tugged down the man’s shorts, feeling the glorious silky heat against his skin, before removing his own.

He paused to take in the man in his entirety. He was by no means muscular, which Harry felt pleased about. But he was well-proportioned a part from the nose and the... well.

Harry backed up to sit on the bed, bidding Severus to follow. “I’m a bit nervous,” he admitted with a silly smile as he lay to face the man. He traced his forefinger along the curve of Severus’ side, letting it catch on the sharp point of Severus’ hip bone.

Severus snorted. “I have to say, I’m not accustomed to bedding the innocent,” he said.

Harry rolled his eyes, though he could feel his face heat up. “I’m not accustomed to being an innocent,” he retorted. He circled Severus’ nipple with his fingertip before dragging his thumb over the pink nub.

Severus moved forward, forcing Harry to his back. “I attract men with... well-established tastes,” he said cryptically. He ran his tongue over Harry’s mouth, bidding it open. 

Harry raised his head to trap the man’s lip between his teeth. “Oh, I have well-established tastes, Severus,” he whispered. “I just need to catch up with the experience part,” he grinned.

“Hm.” Severus slipped between Harry’s thighs, trapping Harry’s straining erection against his hip. “Now might be a good time to discuss that new line you’ve drawn,” Severus said, hips flexing forward and grinding against Harry’s cock, his own pressing insistently against Harry’s thigh.

“God,” Harry breathed. His breath was cut short by a firm bite to his neck. The pain clashed exquisitely with the mounting arousal. Harry’s fingernails cut into Severus’ back causing the older man to hiss even as his cock twitched in appreciation. Their tastes were not so different, Harry thought. Severus pulled back to stare down at him with a regard that made Harry’s heart beat a little faster.

“Hm?” Harry said, slightly dazed.

“Lines,” Severus reminded him.

Oh. Harry shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said lightly. He was rather eager to get on with things and this was a subject he wasn’t keen to discuss at the moment. He could see by Severus’ expression that the man expected a better answer.

Harry frowned. “Things I would allow myself to do and still remain ‘faithful’ to Ginny,” he explained with an exasperated tone.

Severus threw back his head and laughed. Harry glared, his lips twisting to suppress a sheepish grin. To an outsider, the whole morality of his relationship would seem a bit absurd, he supposed. It made perfect sense to him. He thrust upward to silence the man’s laughter.

Severus smiled down at him. “Oh, do tell. Where is this new line?” 

Harry gave the man a long, frustrated look before deciding that he had little to lose. “Love,” he said simply. He felt inordinately pleased by the other man’s stunned expression. 

Severus recovered relatively quickly. “We shall endeavour not to cross that line,” he said, leaning down to brush his lips against Harry’s.

Harry grinned cheekily. “You know all about me and lines, Professor,” he teased. He laughed as the man pulled back with a horrified look on his face. “Joking,” he said hurriedly, unsuccessfully trying to pull his expression into a sober one.

Severus gave a stern look, the effect of which was rather ruined by the fact that they were both naked and aroused. He moved over to fit his hips between Harry’s legs. Harry gasped as the man’s cock slid next to his own. Severus fit his elbows on either side of Harry’s head. “Mr Potter,” he said in that voice that once filled Harry with dread and now made him feel slightly giddy. “That is the second time you’ve referred to me as Professor under wholly inappropriate circumstances.” Severus’ hips canted downward, his cock nudging just behind Harry’s balls. “One might begin to wonder just what sort of fantasies you’re harbouring behind those startling eyes of yours.”

Harry might have blushed were his blood not concentrated elsewhere. As it was, he merely grinned. “To be fair, it’s a relatively new development,” he said sheepishly. His hips arched downward against the seeking head of Severus’ cock. He was pleased by the surprised groan he elicited.

Severus shook his head in wonder. “I’m beginning to regret the week wasted in denial as well,” he mused, sliding downward out of reach of Harry’s hips to address his neck. His tongue slid wetly over Harry’s throat. Harry’s breath caught and released with a breathy “Ah!” as Severus’ movement sent him sliding down against Harry’s erection.

He took a moment to mentally berate himself once more for the missed opportunity and then dismissed his regret in favour of concentrating on the very present sensation of teeth tugging at a sensitive nipple.

If Severus’ hands were magic, he thought, his mouth was even more so. The subtle play of breath and tongue, teeth and lips excited nerves and sensations that were long forgotten during the course of his relationship with Ginny. She knew what buttons to push to elicit the maximum response as they worked toward the ultimate objective. But Severus’ exploration unearthed new desires that were both surprising and enlightening.

Who knew a gentle suck to his ribcage could reduce him to moans and hisses. Those fingers with their neatly trimmed nails teasing over his stomach made him wriggle, which in turn gave him the much needed attention to his cock. A thumb rubbed over the thin skin of his hipbone as that mouth travelled lower. Harry whimpered as that lithe body moved out of reach of his rocking hips.

His mind was awash in sensory chaos. Severus played him masterfully, without giving him what he most wanted. That mouth. That tongue slipping into the sheath of his foreskin to taste the salty evidence of his need. Instead, that mouth continued in its calculated strategy to drive him round the bend. Harry raised his head to watch the man’s slow progress, his eyes alight with desperation. If the man touched him now, Harry was sure to come explosively. If he didn’t touch him, he’d die. It would be a happy death. Severus was merciless and bypassed his cock entirely to nip at the insides of his thighs.

Severus’s knees folded underneath him, his arse tilting upward. Somewhere in the white noise filling his brain, Harry wondered what it would be like to slide into the man. Harry’s head fell to the bed, his hips flexing upward against nothing at all.

Severus’ tongue tortured him, running up his perineum, inciting memories of that vicious tongue spearing into his arse. Harry couldn’t take anymore. His hands closed around Severus’ hair. He could feel the man’s chuckle reverberating in his bollocks.

He moaned desperately. “You’re going to kill me,” he warned. He wasn’t kidding. It wasn’t healthy to breathe this fast. His heart thundered menacingly in his chest. Severus’ mouth closed around his balls before he gave a low hum of agreement. Harry’s grip tightened, to ensure the man continue, or to usher him on – Harry hadn’t quite decided which.

“Always knew you had it in for me,” he managed between breaths. He received a punishing bite for his efforts – not hard enough to do damage but hard enough to be frightening. And bloody hell, that wasn’t supposed to feel good.

Harry released Severus’ head in favour of giving his own cock a hard squeeze, relieving some of the desperate ache. Severus raised his head. “Impatient?” he smirked. He silently summoned his wand.

Harry hummed his accord. Patience was never his strong suit, but he thought he’d been rather good up to now. He was young, however, and there was only so much sexual tension a man his age could take. Severus raised himself to his knees and pointed his wand at Harry’s cock. Harry raised his eyebrows in question.

“A restricting charm,” Severus explained. “It will keep you from coming before we’re ready, but more importantly, it will help you maintain this,” he ran the tip up the length of Harry’s erection, “in what’s to come.”

“Like a cock ring,” Harry nodded.

Severus gave a faintly amused look. “Like a cock ring,” he agreed. “Only better,” he promised. He gave Harry a long searching look before shaking his head.

“What?” 

Severus’ smiled. “Given a bit of time...” he trailed off, touching the tip of his wand to the base of Harry’s cock and speaking the word “Constringo” decisively. Harry could feel a tight band of magic close around his cock and balls. Like a cock ring, he thought. Not precisely comfortable, but particularly exciting. He could feel the head of his cock swell with the constricted blood.

Harry took advantage of the absence of sensory assault to kneel up in front of the man. He pulled him down for a rough kiss. “Handy spell,” he complimented him, his hand closing around the warmth of Severus’ erection. _It will never fit,_ a small voice whispered to him.

In for a penny... he said back. In for a pounding, a silly little voice finished. Harry wholeheartedly hoped so.

Severus’ breath was hot and wet over his neck as Harry stroked the man languidly, thumbnail teasing the sensitive head of Severus’ prick. His mouth moved hungrily over the man’s neck, ears and throat while his stomach swirled with countless nameless emotions.

“There is a spell,” Severus whispered tentatively, “to loosen you up. It might make it less uncomfortable.” He pulled back to gauge Harry’s reaction as his hand moved to stop Harry’s ministrations. His gaze held a hint of concern.

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Do you normally need it?” 

Severus laughed and shook his head. “These are rather exceptional circumstances,” he said.  
Harry bit his lip as fear warred with desire inside him. Desire teamed up with determination to conquer fear. Harry shook his head. “I’d like to try it normally,” he decided, at last.

“Foolhardy as ever, Mr Potter,” Severus intoned in a dark, mellifluous voice. His eyes seemed to darken as he pushed Harry back to the bed.

“I’m famous for it,” Harry agreed on a breath as he welcomed the weight of the man on top of him.

“I’ve held to the hope that someday you’ll learn your lesson,” Severus teased.

Harry laughed before pulling his expression to one of innocence. “Maybe you’ll teach me, sir.”

Severus raised an eyebrow as he settled back onto his elbows. “It promises to be a painful lesson.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Your lessons usually are,” Harry laughed.

Severus gave a punitive twist to Harry’s nipple. “Cheeky sod.”

Harry hissed and squirmed under the other man. “Part of my charm,” he countered breathlessly after a moment. He raised his head to kiss the other man. His hands ran down the man’s back to rest on his arse.

“And to think I was reluctant to hurt you,” Severus mused. “I’m quite looking forward to it now.” He treated Harry with a predatory glare. Harry bit his lip, his stomach clenching in anticipation as he reached for his night table to pluck up the phial of lubricant.

“I trust you’ll put this to good use,” he said, trying to attain the same level of mockery that Severus had used last night.

Severus smirked. “I’d mind my tone if I were you,” he warned. “The ratio of pleasure to pain is entirely at my discretion.”

Harry tried for a contrite expression, which was rendered ineffective by the grin that was fighting to stretch across his face. He cleared his throat and forced his face to appear serious. “Then I will accept either,” he said with all the solemnity of a vow. “At your discretion.”

Severus stared down at him with an unreadable expression for a long moment. The atmosphere grew thick with intensity in that moment and practically sizzled with sexual tension. The silence was cut with a sighed, “Fucking hell, Potter,” as Severus pushed himself back to his knees.

“What?” Harry said innocently. He allowed his smug smile passage.

Severus shook his head, pulling the stopper out of the bottle expertly as he dribbled some of the precious liquid over his fingers. “I’m not accustomed to wanting to both throttle and fuck my lovers senseless in such rapid succession,” he stated. “It’s part of your charm.”

Harry sniggered. “I’ve heard the combination can be interesting,” he noted, raising his knees to give better access.

Severus gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t tempt me.”

“But I like to tempt you.” Harry’s coy smile was wiped away by the brush of fingers over his entrance. The fingers slipped around spreading the lubricant over the hole before tipping into the tight ring. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation, his hand wrapping around his engorged cock as he willed himself to relax. This, he was familiar with. His bollocks tensed in memory of the earth-shattering orgasm he’d had the night before. 

Two fingers scissored inside. Harry moaned softly, dragging his thumb over the head of his cock. The fingers began fucking him, twisting and opening in a way that Harry had never been able to do himself. When Severus brushed over that spot (prostate, some conscious part of his brain supplied) his mouth opened wide, back arching off the bed. His throat closed over his surprised shout and released it in a slow whine. 

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the other man staring down at him with an intense look on his face. Severus offered him a slow, wicked smile. He jabbed his fingers in again, tips grazing just there. The shout won the battle with Harry’s throat.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his hand well on its way toward self-gratification, until Severus’ own hand stilled its frantic ministrations. At the brush of hair across his abdomen, Harry gave a breathy plea, moaning when he felt a hot tongue circle around the glans. Teeth scraped ... god, just so ... along the sensitive tip at the same time as Severus fit in a third finger.

It felt deliciously tight. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but the pressure inside him now was maddening – a welcome compliment to the sensation of the man’s hot, wet mouth moving over him. The rhythm was neither regular enough nor forceful enough to do much other than tease. Harry thought he could happily spend the rest of his life under this particular kind of torture.

He was stretched methodically until finally he felt himself relax around the fullness inside him. Severus knelt up once more. Harry blinked up at the man when he felt those fingers leave him.

“You may want to turn over,” Severus advised before wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. Harry saw the flash of the phial in his hand and then watched as Severus coated his impressive length until it shimmered.

Harry didn’t want to turn over. He wanted nothing more than to study the man as he fucked him. Over the years he’d seen a number of expressions cross that face, but he thought seeing what the man looked like the first time he slipped into Harry’s arse would be one that Harry could commit to memory and revisit in years to come. “I want to see you,” he said.

Severus took up his wand from the bed beside him and muttered a reflecting spell on the headboard of the bed. Harry twisted around to see the air shimmer and then form a perfect mirror image of the two of them. “Brilliant,” he grinned, meeting Severus’ reflected gaze. He turned over and went on all fours, offering his arse up for the abuse to come. He gave the man an uncertain smile. “It will fit, won’t it?”

Severus snorted, hands going to lie on Harry’s hips, fingertips sliding up against his skin. “Gryffindor bravery failing you, Potter?” he teased.

Harry gave an impudent look.

“Second thoughts?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said more confidently than he felt just then. He took a breath to prepare himself for what was to come, reminding himself that he was not the first man to have been fucked by Severus. So far as he knew, Severus’ former lovers had lived to tell the tale. He mentally batted away his trepidation and concentrated fully on the arousal that swirled within him.

“We’ll go slowly,” Severus said quietly, stroking a long-fingered hand down Harry’s back as the other hand slipped the head of that cock between Harry’s cheeks, aiming for the slick entrance. Harry held his breath, meeting Severus’ eyes again. He felt the thick head press forward against his resisting hole. He could feel himself stretching. Severus’ expression was a mask of concentration. His own, wild-eyed, lip held tightly between his teeth. Severus relented slightly before leaning in further, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

Harry’s jaw went slack, his fingers gripping the pillow in front of him and his eyes momentarily forgetting their erstwhile determination to remain open. It hurt. Severus stilled, fingers clutching around Harry’s hips as though they alone were the key to his control.

“Fuck,” the older man breathed after a moment. Harry opened his eyes to see Severus’ flutter shut, his brow pulled into a frown of concentration. Harry panted, struggling to come to terms with the intrusion, panicking when he thought he may have to stop.

“Deep breaths,” Severus whispered, that voice a calming force in the storm of anxiousness raging in Harry’s head. He could feel his body break out in a thin layer of sweat. “Push against me,” Severus advised roughly. 

But Harry was still trying to breathe properly, taking deep breaths like Severus had taught him to do so very long ago now. Seeking for a different kind of calm this time. 

“Try and push me out,” Severus said again, hand stroking soothingly down Harry’s back. Harry bit down on his lip, bringing his breath down into his belly and pushed against the man even as Severus begun rocking to gain deeper access. The noises spilling forth from Harry’s lips told of pain and determination. An exertion of mind over matter. He opened his eyes again to see it all reflected before him. Severus watched him intently with a mixture of care and caution.

“All right?” the man breathed.

“Ouch,” Harry breathed back.

“Try and relax.”

Harry gave an incredulous laugh, but made an effort to comply, breathing in and out slowly in loud, rushing waves. His arse felt like it was on fire, but slowly, after what felt like hours, he could feel himself begin to adjust, to accept the intrusion. It by no means felt _good_ , but eventually the pain became manageable.

“Good boy,” Severus smirked at him. He leant forward to run his tongue between Harry’s shoulder blades. “You feel incredible,” he said softly. “Tight,” he continued, dropping dry kisses along Harry’s shoulders and back. His hands ran over Harry’s torso, fingers tugging gently at Harry’s nipples. “The hard part is over, Harry. By the time we’re through, you’ll beg me to let you come.” He punctuated his promise with a bite to Harry’s neck.

The words, the voice, revived his flagging arousal. His hips began moving of their own accord, forward and backward as Severus’ began to move in tight circles, sliding against the constricting walls. The sensitive flesh gave way. His eyes met Severus’ again. Severus’ hands returned to Harry hips, leaving Harry free to dictate the pace.

Harry moaned as agony gave way to pleasure – small and subtle to begin with, but real. He pushed back further and was rewarded by a surprised gasp. Severus picked up a gentle rhythm now, hips circling to stretch and persuade the tight channel to allow him admittance. “Oh god, yes,” Harry breathed as he felt himself open up. “Like that,” he encouraged desperately. As long as the man kept moving like that, as long as he never stopped, Harry thought he’d be fine.

Severus obliged, each time circling ever deeper until Harry was sure there couldn’t possibly be more of the man. He was wrong every time. A hand pressed downward across his tailbone as Severus pulled back and then drove back in – not hard, exactly, but deliberately, angling himself to scrape past Harry’s prostate.

Harry’s arms reached forward to brace himself against the headboard, as he cried out against the almost too intense sensation. Not quite pleasure and not exactly pain, but a bittersweet marriage of both. He focussed his gaze on Severus just in time to see the other man lose himself in the rhythm, thrusting now without caution. His expression was fierce. He reached around to wrap his hand around Harry’s cock.

Harry’s plans to study Severus through this had fled. The sounds now coming from his mouth sounded foreign to his own ears. Normally reserved, Harry now found he couldn’t control his reactions. There was simply too much feeling to manage stoically. His hips canted back to meet Severus’ thrusts, jutting forward into that exquisite grip on his cock. His pleasure mounted without possibility of release. He knew he’d have to ask for it, but could find neither the words nor the breath to power them. Severus pounded into him now, each thrust slapping ruthlessly against his arse, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Harry’s body. One word had been driven to the forefront of his consciousness and slid out now with every expelled breath. “Please.”

Severus groaned, one hand reaching up to curl around Harry’s throat, effectively cutting off the next refrain. Something akin to panic added to the confusion of arousal and need inside him. He could feel the blood struggle to get past the iron grip on his neck, feel his heart throbbing in his head just as his cock throbbed painfully below, likewise restricted. He was going to die.

“Finite incantatem,” Severus whispered.

At once his cock was released, his balls contracted gratefully. The grip on his throat loosened and Harry’s lungs eagerly expanded as all his desire came hurtling out his cock. He gave a hoarse shout as he came. Severus’ grip returned to his hips as he drove in once, twice and a third time, burying himself to the hilt and coming. His mouth opened wide to let out a sound that his throat never produced.

It would have made a memorable sight were Harry conscious enough to have noticed it. As it was, his face was buried in the pillow as he panted to recover his tentative grasp on life. He felt Severus drape over the back of him and fell under the man’s weight to melt bonelessly into the mattress.

A million thoughts flitted through Harry’s head as he lay pinned to the bed. His arse was sore. He thought he must surely have brain damage. He may never catch his breath again. Never walk again. Sit down. Move. His already somewhat perverse sexual history now seemed dull in comparison to this and he was certain he’d never find fulfilment like this with Ginny.

And he was equally certain that he was completely enamoured with the man softening gently inside of him.

“I think we can safely say it fit,” Severus said next to his ear.

Harry’s body shook with laughter that he was too knackered to give voice to. “I think I’m going to have to redraw the line again,” he breathed back.

Severus snorted and then rolled to the side. Harry heard a muttered cleaning charm, followed by a spell to ease minor bruising. He sighed at the small relief it gave.

“How’s that?” Severus asked as he relaxed at Harry’s side.

With some difficulty, Harry managed to move to face him. “Brilliant.” He offered a sleepy smile.

Severus cupped Harry’s face in his hand, his thumb sliding over Harry’s lips in a strange gesture of tenderness that made Harry feel slightly breathless. He could practically hear the ticking of their time running out and he was filled with the yearning to stop the clock and live contentedly in this bed, with this man until they both expired. He yearned, in short, to extend the perfection. He closed his eyes as he moved forward to capture Severus’ mouth in a slow kiss. His hand rested on the curve of the man’s neck, fingers threading through Severus’ hair.

Severus responded in kind, his own lips moving languidly with no other purpose than to prolong contact. The kiss betrayed the truth behind Harry’s offhand comment. The line was truly crossed. He wouldn’t say he was in love, exactly. He recognised the sentiment that filled him as being adrenaline-induced. However, his interest in this man went beyond what was considered acceptable, even in the anything goes realm of his relationship with Ginny.

Not that any of this would amount to much, Harry knew with crushing certainty. The complexity of the situation was such that the two men would be forced to be happy with the here and now, with no thoughts of tomorrow and beyond. “Never again,” Severus had said. And while Harry couldn’t commit to that, it was true enough as to make little difference. This moment of perfection would have to last from now until they met again.

For auld lang syne.

Severus broke the kiss first, leaning his forehead against Harry’s. His eyes remained closed. His hand slid down Harry’s arm to rest on the curve of Harry’s side. Harry couldn’t recall ever feeling so relaxed... so spent. He felt he could sleep for a year. By the look of things, Severus had similar thoughts. Harry smiled. “You’re ready to go again,” he teased. “I can tell.”

Severus snorted and opened his eyes. “I’m an old man,” he said. “It will take a few more minutes after a performance like that.”

“It was pretty incredible,” Harry conceded. “I was right about the throttling thing.”

Severus closed his eyes and laughed. “An inspired idea. Had I but known how much you’d enjoy it, my years as your teacher might have been a lot less harrowing.”

“Well, whenever you get the urge again, you know how to find me,” Harry said wryly.

Severus’ smile faltered. He opened his eyes as an unreadable expression seized control of his features. An instant later it was gone, and Harry wondered if he’d imagined it. “Careful what you wish for, Potter,” the man said, easily slipping back into the banter they’d maintained over the last week.

Harry yawned. “At the moment, I wish for sleep,” he said, before shifting to crawl under the covers. “I’m knackered.”

Severus moved to allow Harry to pull the blanket up over his shoulder. “I’ll let you sleep then,” he decided aloud.

Harry grabbed hold of his arm. “No way. We’re not finished,” he insisted before the yawn overtook him again. “Just a little break,” he laughed.

Severus gave him a hard look, although Harry couldn’t help but notice that there was little behind it. “You’re not a cuddler, are you?” he said disdainfully.

Harry snorted. “No.”

With a decisive nod, Severus pulled back the blanket to crawl underneath. “Very well,” he said quietly. “A little break then,” he said, yawning. He turned to lie on his back and Harry’s fingers stole forward to just touch the other man’s arm. He closed his eyes and let his body melt into the mattress.

Harry’s last thought before surrendering to sleep was that he might like to visit America someday.

-o-o-

Severus awoke to the feeling of hands sliding over his back. Under his head, he identified the hard feeling of a shoulder. He breathed in the heady mixture of man and skin and something his brain identified only as Potter. Fingers ran over his arse, which flexed under the touch, pressing his hard cock against a firm fleshy thigh. He moaned sleepily.

The firm body slipped out from under him. Warm, wet kisses trailed down the length of his side. He groggily opened an eye to watch the man’s slow progress. He went to turn onto his back, but a hand kept him on his side. Harry’s tongue lapped over the sharp angle of his hip bone, followed by teeth scraping to gather the wetness left by his tongue. Once again, he made to turn, to offer up his cock for the same treatment, and once more his effort was thwarted. Mouth and fingers followed the curve of his arse, fingers tipping tentatively between his cheeks.

Severus tensed as he felt the bed between his legs dip. Hands urged his top leg up, and Severus, quite awake now, cautiously complied. A hot tongue swept along his perineum and a small, audacious nose nudged his entrance. His arse cheeks were prised apart. 

Severus held his breath. Harry’s hand reached between his thighs to grip his cock as the pointed tip of that tongue circled around his hole. Severus couldn’t restrain the eager moan that vibrated in his throat. He struggled to recall the last time he’d had this particular experience, and Harry’s tongue was surprisingly strong and persistent as it circled and poked, stroked and stabbed. All the while, the hand stroked him in a slow, unsteady rhythm.

Severus gave an encouraging moan as he felt a thumb circle around his hole uncertainly. He heard an answering gasp as it pressed inside slickly. Severus spared a thought to wonder at what point the man had managed to find and apply lubricant. Severus didn’t notice any pausing or fumbling. The thought was quickly swept away as the tongue followed the thumb’s entrance. Both thumb and tongue were replaced by a finger sliding easily inside him.

He felt Harry kneel up, straddling Severus’ extended leg as his finger worked in and out of him deliberately. He could feel Harry’s cock pressing the back of his thigh, wet with excitement. A second finger squeezed inside and both men groaned appreciatively.

“I’d wager you don’t get fucked very often,” Harry said in a low, rough voice. Severus opened his eyes to see the man watching him, eyes blazing with the prospect of a new adventure. The promise of domination.

Severus grunted and closed his eyes once more. The type of men who generally found Severus attractive were submissive, and so Severus became dominant by default. It suited his personality and, as beggars could not be choosy, he was quite happy to fulfil his role. He hadn’t really missed getting buggered. At least, he hadn’t thought he missed it.

But as the seeking fingers found what they were angling for, Severus knew that there had indeed been something lacking in his sex life. He bit down hard on his lip to keep quiet as the pleasure streaked through him.

“Now, now, Professor Snape,” Harry admonished. Severus’ cock twitched inexplicably at the sound of that name spoken in that particular voice. “No holding back,” Harry said. “I want to hear you.” The fingers jabbed in again and Severus called out.

“Perfect,” Harry breathed. He set a maddeningly slow rhythm with his fingers. Severus didn’t need the careful preparation that he’d treated Harry to. It was true that it had been many years since he’d been properly fucked, but muscle had memory. That particular muscle remembered well how to surrender.

“You’re a cruel man, Professor,” Harry... _Potter_ said in a surprisingly impressive tone that spoke of perfect control. It was the sound of someone who expected to be heard and obeyed. “You made me beg to come. Look at me.”

Severus opened his eyes to see the man looking down at him. He released Severus’ cock and straightened up, holding his palm outward. A second later, he was palming a handful of lubricant over his own thick cock. Severus was considerably more impressed than he let on. Wordless, wandless magic. He tucked the realisation away for later examination.

“You want me to fuck you, Professor.” The man’s eyes were emerald and his gaze just as hard. Only a light flush across his cheeks betrayed either excitement or embarrassment at his brazenness. Potter played the role well.

“Do it,” Severus breathed, closing his eyes. He could feel his own cheeks heat. His cock twitched in anticipation.

“Oh, I think you can do better than that.” The man’s fingers slipped from him. He slid his hand along Severus’ thigh, curling around his knee and pulling it up to rest on his shoulders before he gathered the other leg. Severus lifted his hips compliantly, teeth scraping his lip as he felt the man line up, brushing his entrance teasingly. “Tell me,” Harry whispered. There was no trace of the uncertain virgin he’d been only a short while ago. This man oozed confident power. It was an act, Severus thought, but a rather good one. Severus was a player in Harry’s fantasies. While he was normally reluctant to cede power to anyone in this way, just now, he found he was more reluctant not to.

“Fuck me,” he said, meeting the man’s eyes and pushing his hips against the head of Harry’s cock.

“Fuck me, what?” Harry said. Severus saw a flash of amusement that was quickly suppressed.

“Mr Potter,” Severus said like a curse, wondering at the streak of loathing that the name invoked, and even more at the desire that accompanied it.

“What’s the magic word?” Harry said with a cruel smirk, deliberately sliding his cock across Severus’ entrance.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Imperio.”

Harry laughed. “That might be interesting, too,” he said, dropping character to offer over a smile of complicity. “Another time,” he grinned before closing his eyes and pressing forward. When he’d opened them, he’d fallen back into his role again. His gaze was hard and glittering with desire. His mouth twisted into a hint of a smirk. “Say please, Professor.”

Severus’ breathing came raggedly. Harry put just enough pressure to threaten entrance without following through. There was no denying how much he wanted this. More surprising was just how much that desire was linked to the man himself. He’d always been attracted to power. It was his weakness. And Harry hummed with it. “Please,” he breathed, determined not to look away.

Harry’s tongue darted between his lips. He clenched his jaw as he pushed inside. Severus’ breath hitched at the instant of pain upon entry. How many years had it been? Too many, a little voice moaned in his head, and he couldn’t help but agree. Topping had its own delights. But this type of surrender, with the right sort of person, allowed for a fulfilment that Severus hadn’t experienced in years. What with the other man’s experience in this sort of thing, he certainly didn’t have high hopes to experience fulfilment this afternoon either.

So instead, he concentrated himself on the enjoyment of stretching around the invasion. Of the small rocking movement as Harry eased himself in. Severus’ gaze focussed on the beautiful, young face, pulled into a frown of determination as he speared further inside.

“Fuck, it’s so tight,” Harry whispered in a rough voice. He took a deep breath through his nose, his hands sliding under Severus’ arse to lift the man onto his knees. The rhythm he set was maddeningly slow – in and out and in again until he was fully buried inside.

Severus took advantage of the momentary pause in movement to draw in a deep breath. His chest constricted around it – an echo of the raw emotion he saw on the other man’s face. Fierce adoration, he named it. Just an effect of being so joined to another person, he rationalized. A person with whom he shared a complex and tormented history. A person who knew his most intimate secrets. _Ill-advised_ , his conscience whispered.

“Beautiful,” his voice responded.

Harry growled as he pulled back and slammed in, tilting Severus’ hips up to gain access to the centre of pleasure hidden inside. The man’s aim was remarkably good for an amateur, and Severus’ breath rocketed out of him with a voiceless “Ah!”. His hand wrapped around his cock, expertly sliding his foreskin along the sensitive head.

The man’s movements were deliberate, hips angling and jutting forward in tight targeted thrusts. “That it?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes wild and jaw tight under the smooth skin.

Severus moaned in what he hoped would be interpreted as affirmative, unable to do much else as pleasure overwhelmed any hope of conscious thought. It was too much. Too good. Calculated perfection that could not possibly last. Something had to give. He wanted more, harder, faster, and he wanted the man never to stop doing exactly what he was doing right then.

Harry’s hands tightened around his hips, brow furrowing under the strain of maintaining control. In this position, Severus’ was powerless to force the man onward. If he shifted, he risked losing the perfection that Harry had found. He could feel the inevitable end drawing nearer. Just a bit more and just there, he mentally pleaded. His breathing grew more frantic, his eyes losing focus on his lover’s face. Sounds he couldn’t believe were coming from him grew and crescendoed.

And then it stopped. He was pushed unceremoniously away from the edge and met the quiet, still reality with a groan of disbelief. He cast a befuddled glare at his torturer.

Once more, Harry held out his hand, palm upward. A chain appeared. Severus could just make out the silver clips dangling from either end. He blinked in surprise.

“You know what these are,” Harry said with no hint of a question mark.

Of course he knew what nipple clamps were. He had a theoretical knowledge of how they worked and the effect they might have. But where the hell had they come from?

The question must have been evident on his face because Harry gave a slightly sheepish grin. “When you’re alone as much as I, wanking is an exercise in creativity,” the other man gave by way of explanation.

Severus’ brain was still reeling by the appearance of the torture device (wordlessly, wandlessly), and belatedly caught up with the man’s admission. His mouth opened dumbly, as he once again came to the conclusion that he didn’t know this man at all. More alarming was the suddenly intense desire to know him better, to explore every dark corner of this man’s sexuality.

His legs were released to either side of Harry’s body as Harry moved forward. In either hand he held a clip, pinching it open to reveal tiny steel jaws gaping menacingly. “Do you trust me?” the man asked, holding Severus’ gaze.

Severus watched silently a moment before nodding. “No,” he said with a smirk.

The grin he was greeted with told him which part of his contradictory response was understood. “You’re going to love it,” Harry promised quietly, reaching forward to attach one and then the other. The movement sent him even further inside Severus, causing him to gasp the moment the tiny teeth latched onto his nipples. The pain was not unpleasant, exactly. It complimented the pleasure caused by the pressure inside him quite nicely really. The cold chain linking the two metal jaws fell across his chest, adding yet another element of sensation.

Harry surveyed his work, taking up the chain and tugging gently. His eyes were bright. “Tell me when you’re about to come,” he said. “It’ll be brilliant.”

And Severus didn’t doubt him for a second. He nodded his accord, voice once more silenced by a feeling of awe at this strange, intriguing and beautiful man who gathered up his legs once more. Harry’s hips retreated, hands moving back to Severus’ hips. “Ready?” he asked inanely. Charmingly. Severus’ incredulous laugh was cut off by a hard thrust inward. Harry adjusted his angle carefully, and after a few experimental pushes, the last of which incited a surprised shout from Severus, he reprised his ruthless attack on Severus’ prostate.

With the added sensation of his nipples being mercilessly bitten into, it didn’t take Severus long at all to see the approaching proverbial summit. Every movement was an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain and Severus felt uncertain how much more of either he could take. His eyes squeezed shut, and his hand moved deliberately over his erection, ensuring that pleasure tipped the balance.

Harry’s breathing came loudly and raggedly. His fingers dug into the skin of Severus’ arse. “I want to see you come, Severus,” he said, the words strained and interrupted by hot gusts of breath. “I want to ... hear you ....”

And Severus couldn’t help but oblige. He was careening toward the edge, breathing urgently as he approached. “Yes ...” he managed. “Now.”

Those hands moved to the clamps releasing them. White hot fire shot through his nipples, searing a patch to his bollocks and exploding out his cock, gathering all pleasure along the way. Severus arched off the bed, held suspended in a blissfully agonizing eternal moment.

Harry pushed forward, leaning against the backs of Severus’ thighs, fucking him hard and fast. Severus managed to open his eyes to meet the man’s gaze as he drove himself to oblivion. Moments later, Harry threw his head back and slammed into him with a shout. He shuddered visibly as his orgasm wracked his body. Severus was certain there was no more beautiful sight in the world. His legs fell to the side as Harry slumped forward, stomach pressing against Severus’ wetly. Severus kissed the man, swallowing every exhaled breath, his hands sliding along the sweat-slicked contours of Harry’s back.

“Fucking hell,” Harry breathed against Severus’ mouth and then licked the words from Severus’ lips with his tongue. 

“Fucking hell,” Severus agreed, as Harry kissed his way along Severus’ neck and down further to brush his tongue gently over Severus’ tortured right nipple. Severus hissed in pain, and wriggled away from the attention. Harry laughed lightly and then came back up to suck at Severus’ bottom lip. To kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his eyes. “You’re amazing,” he grinned at him. He pushed himself up to his knees, slipping out of Severus easily and waved his hand to clean them both.

He waved his _hand_ , Severus thought. Something, not unlike jealousy, twisted inside him. “How long have you been able to do that?” he asked, now that he had the presence of mind to be annoyed by such a casual use of wandless magic.

Harry gave him a confused look before returning to lie on top of him. “It’s not so different from ... normal sex ... with a girl, I mean.” He put his elbows on either side of Severus’ head and propped up his head with a hand to look down at Severus.

Severus gave him a bland look. “Wandless magic, you dolt.”

“Oh ....” Harry shrugged to dismiss the idea. Severus couldn’t help but notice the man looked uncomfortable about it. “A while, I suppose. A talent honed from sheer laziness,” he said with a lop-sided grin. “Nothing spoils the mood like having to fumble around for your wand.” 

Severus looked at the man with disbelief. “You must be exhausted,” he hoped aloud.

Harry shook his head and kissed Severus softly. A diversion, Severus thought, although a pleasant one. “I had a nice nap,” he whispered. “Apart from all the cuddling.” He offered a disgusted expression that he managed to hold for a second or so.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “I do not cuddle,” he insisted.

Harry giggled. There was no other word for it. “Must have been that other wizard wrapped around me then,” he teased.

Severus gave him a firm poke to the ribs, causing Harry to yelp and jerk away.

“I do not cuddle,” Severus said again, his tone suggesting that it might be wise to ignore any evidence to the contrary. 

“Don’t worry, Professor,” Harry said, his face a perfect picture of the innocent school boy he’d never been. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He leant in to flick his tongue playfully over Severus’ scowl.

“Professor, indeed,” Severus growled. “When you mentioned your fantasies, Mr Potter, I hadn’t imagined you playing the role of dominant.”

Harry gave a cheeky smile. “Oh, I’m very versatile in my fantasies,” he said, leaning off to one side and circling an abused nipple with a gentle fingertip.

“So I’ve noticed,” Severus said, taking advantage of the man’s position to offer up some abuse of his own. He twisted the man’s nipple firmly. “The clamps were a nice touch.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Thought you might like them.” Harry leant in to kiss along his jawline.

“Use them often?”

“Brought them with me, didn’t I?” Harry whispered.

Severus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The man was dangerous, he reminded himself. It did not do to entertain thoughts as to just how deviant the man’s tastes might go. After all, nipple clamps were fairly tame as kinks go. They only had one night... and a bit.

“What?” Harry looked down at him quizzically.

Severus’ eyes refocussed. “You’re ... unexpected,” Severus finished, realising that it was an inaccurate description, but unable to come up with anything better just at the moment.

Harry smiled. “That’s good, right?” He laughed. “You’re unexpected too. Who’d have thought, eh?”

Indeed. Severus had a hard time reconciling the beguiling young man lying on him now with the boy he’d spent years loathing. And when he paused to consider the actual source of that loathing, he was confronted with the alarming reality of just how deeply he’d betrayed his childhood friend. Lily would have his balls for this. Self-preservation forced him to separate the man currently kissing his neck from the boy he’d once been. It was simply too much for the mind to accept.

Considering that this was the only person for whom Severus had more than a passing fancy for more years than he could remember, the situation was complex indeed. Given time and freedom to indulge, Severus would surely fall. But he was not free and time was quickly running out.

The whole thing was rather unsettling and threatened the happy balance he’d created in his life. Once more, Harry Potter was the cause of his emotional disquiet. This time, however, he couldn’t quite resent the younger man for it.

One took happiness where it was offered, no matter how fleeting.

“You OK?”

Severus gave a noncommittal grunt and urged the other man off him. Harry settled at his side, fingertips mapping out his torso. “I wish ...” The younger man trailed off and then snorted, thinking better of finishing the sentence.

Severus forced himself to look over. He didn’t want to hear that sentence finished. He wished as well, for all the good it would do either of them.

“Tea,” Harry said with a weak smile. He cast an uncertain glance in Severus’ direction before summoning his wand. This, at least, was something most wizards would be capable of. The tea service appeared on the nightstand.

Severus gave the man a searching look. “What?” Harry said after a minute. “You don’t want tea?”  
Severus snorted as Harry began pouring. 

“Do you even need your wand?”

Harry sighed. “Not for tea,” he said carefully. “I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable,” Severus echoed dully. No. “Insanely jealous, perhaps,” Severus said with a wry smile. Awestruck, definitely. What he could do with such power at his disposal ...

“I can manage simple charms and spells without,” Harry explained, placing a lump of sugar in Severus’ cup. “But I need it for more complex things.”

“I’ve only known one man who can manage what you do,” Severus said, unwilling to let the man make light of his abilities. If one is endowed with that much power, the least one could do was to take it seriously.

Harry shook his head. “I’m no match for Dumbledore.”

“Yet,” Severus said with an exasperated look. “You’re still young. A bit of training...”

“It doesn’t pay to be too powerful these days,” Harry said darkly. “Only a handful of people know I can do this.”

Severus snorted. “The Dark Lord did not have that kind of power,” Severus said.

Harry gave a grim look. “Decidedly a good thing.” He handed Severus his tea and leant against the headboard, cradling his own. “It’s nothing compared to what you do. The spells you create.”

Severus smiled, a warm glow of pride blossoming in his chest. “Imagine what we could accomplish together,” he mused.

“I have,” Harry said with a salacious grin. “At length.” He sniggered into his cup.

Severus grunted before sitting next to the other man. “Nipple clamps,” he teased. His hand closed around the discarded chain. He handed it over with a raised eyebrow.

Harry laughed as the chain draped over his open hand. “The possibilities are endless.” His smile faded quickly. He dropped the chain on the side table and sipped his tea. “I have to go back tomorrow,” he said. The reluctance in his tone echoed Severus’ own reticence to end whatever it was they’d begun here.

Severus pressed his lips firmly together. “I wasn’t aware there was ever a question,” he said with cold impatience, more directed at his own foolish longing than to the man sitting next to him.

“No,” Harry said regretfully and then sighed. “But I’d stay if I could.” He looked over with a contrite smile. “I’ve really enjoyed this. I mean ... I _really_ enjoyed today. But the whole week has been great.”

Severus nodded, his expression telling nothing of the futile yearning he felt. What the hell was wrong with him? He reasoned that it was only natural to feel attachment to this man. It was normal that after years of maintaining virtual anonymity and a careful distance from his consorts, that he should appreciate the novelty of having someone in his bed with whom he could be honest. With whom he could relive the pleasures associated with being a wizard. Of course, he was reluctant to part with that. Who wouldn’t be?

“You’ve gone quiet,” Harry said warily.

Severus blinked and cleared his throat. “I’m a man given to reflection, Mr Potter.”

Harry snorted. “Ah,” he said. “And what are your thoughts on ... I dunno ... resurrection?”  
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “Harry –“

Harry held out his hands defensively. “All right,” he laughed. “I’m just saying. I think we could manage it ... should you ever wish to ...”

Severus clenched his jaw, refusing to even consider the possibility. There was nothing for him in that world. He refused to notice that that platitude was no longer quite as true as it once had been.

Bloody Albus.

“What are you really called over there, anyway?” Harry asked.

Severus frowned at the man, who promptly rolled his eyes. “Come on, Severus. If I wanted to find out, I could in a second. I have your post box number and I am a very resourceful Auror. It’s not like I’ll show up on your doorstep.” The man was clearly annoyed by Severus’ insistence on secrecy. And if Severus were honest, it was rather ridiculous under the circumstances.

He sighed. “Hadrian Prince.”

He was rewarded with a grin. “Better than Henry,” Harry agreed. “I like Severus better.” He nudged Severus with his shoulder.

“It’s not a name that is likely to go unnoticed.”

“You’re not a man likely to go unnoticed,” Harry remarked, his hand straying over to cover Severus’. Severus glared at the bold thing, feeling that he should probably draw a line at holding hands. His mind busied itself with trying to rationalise how holding hands was somehow more intimate than sex. Meanwhile, Harry’s fingers threaded between his own, his head leaning against Severus’ shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Severus’ voice cracked.

Harry took a deep breath. “Nothing,” he said, releasing Severus’ hand. He put his cup on the table and pulled his knees to his chest.

Severus looked over at the man in alarm. “Harry.” He put his fingers under the man’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes. “Please don’t make me regret this. It’s senseless to lament what cannot be. I have just enjoyed the best sex I’ve had in recent memory and to ruin that with regret would be criminal.” Severus offered a small smile.

Harry returned it. “It was pretty fantastic.” After a moment, he groaned and let his head meet the headboard with a dull thud. “But there’s just so much more I want to do to you. With you.” He gave a hopeless little laugh.

Severus leant over to press a kiss to the centre of the man’s mouth. “Make a list,” he said. “We’ll see how much of it we can get done before dawn.”

Harry’s hand came up to thread through his hair. His tongue brushed over his lips before pushing inside. Severus thought he could easily die for that mouth. The thought grew louder until his entire body reverberated with it. Harry’s hand closed in a tight fist, his kiss became more demanding, more aggressive. Teeth came into play, biting at Severus’ lips. When Harry pulled away, Severus felt momentarily bereft. He was confronted by a lascivious grin. “So what exactly is the recovery time for an old man?” His eyes trailed down to Severus’ precariously covered lap.

“Not as long as one might expect,” Severus answered.

“Excellent,” Harry said. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” Severus answered, food being the furthest thing from his mind.

“Me too.” The man’s tongue flicked teasingly over Severus’ swollen lips. “But first, I’d like to have a shower.” His lips brushed Severus’. “With you.”

Harry slipped off the bed, bare feet meeting the cold stone floor. He took Severus’ hands and pulled him along. Severus could not help but to follow.


	5. Wish List

Harry had never been so clean in his entire life. Nor had he ever been quite so aroused. And amused as he rubbed the fluffy green towel over Severus’ wet hair. Washing that hair may not have been as satisfying as it would have been ten years ago, but Harry had taken great pleasure in the task nevertheless.

Not as much pleasure as planned on taking in the afternoon to follow, of course. He’d been given free rein to dictate the way the rest of their time would be spent. Harry let the towel drop to Severus’ shoulders and raised himself up to continue the heated kiss the two men had been torturing themselves with for at least twenty minutes. Severus’ cock stabbed against his belly insistently. Every time Harry felt it, his insides lurched excitedly. But as the list was rather longer than what he imagined even his youthful stamina would allow for, every erection needed to be preserved and used to its fullest capacity.

“And now, Mr Potter?” Severus asked, cupping Harry’s arse and pulling him more firmly against him.

A small whimper caught in Harry’s throat. God, he was hard. Aching. He was, however, a man with an agenda. He pulled away with a smirk. “Get dressed,” he said, laughing at the incredulous look he received at his order. “Wear your robes,” he instructed, wiping water drops from Severus’ chest.

“I haven’t got any,” Severus said, looking amused at the request.

“Aren’t those your robes in the wardrobe in your room?”

Severus’ mouth opened. And then closed again. He raised an eyebrow. “Been snooping through my things, Mr Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I am a man given to curiosity, Mr Snape,” he drawled. His finger came up to pinch a pink nipple, well aware of how sensitive it would be after the earlier treatment.

Severus’ hand grabbed Harry’s wrist. He looked unconvinced at Harry’s innocent expression. “I won’t tell you what I got up to in your bed,” Harry teased with a wicked grin. He was bluffing, of course. He’d had a brief look through the other man’s cupboards, but generally had respected Severus’ privacy.

“Go and get dressed. But not too quickly. I need 15 minutes or so.” He flashed a mischievous grin before darting to his room to pull on some clothes. T-shirt, jeans. He didn’t bother with pants, but slid on his boots. It was a pity he hadn’t brought his robes, but it never occurred to him that he’d need them.

By the time he heard Severus’ footsteps, he was standing in the kitchen. The steam from a boiling pot of vegetable broth wafted up at him. The counter was a mess of macerated herbs, shoddily chopped onions. A mortar full of badly ground peppercorns sat waiting to be insulted. It was as good an improvisation as he could do in such a short time.

Harry didn’t turn as he heard Severus’ boots click against the stone floor. His hand curled around the wooden spoon-cum-stirring rod in his hand. It was a pretty fine work of transfiguration, he thought. The long glass rod curved into a round bulb at the end. He held it deliberately ham-handedly and swished it around in the bubbling liquid like a first-year.

“And where are your robes, Mr Potter?” 

That voice. How had he gone through his adolescence without noticing how that voice could vibrate through flesh and bone and into the most private parts of him? Harry took a deep breath and turned an insolent glare toward the Potions master.

He nearly lost it out of shock. There before him was Professor Snape. Hair a bit shorter. Face a little less gaunt and drawn, hair considerably cleaner, but unmistakably him down to the sneer. He seemed taller in his robes. Far more impressive. Intimidating. Sexy as fuck.

Harry managed to recover his sixteen year old self after a moment. “They’re in the wash,” he said, turning back to the potion... Soup. The footsteps drew nearer. Harry could feel the familiar rise of the hairs at the back of his neck. Warm breath clouded behind him. His heart beat a tad faster.

“What do you call this?” Snape said in a voice like dark silk.

Harry suppressed a smile that tried to form. “Soup,” he muttered, channelling the indignation that he’d lived with as this man’s student.

“Soup,” Severus spat, picking up the pestle to eye the peppercorn. Harry glanced over to see an uncomfortably accurate impression of disgust curl onto the man’s face at the sight of his botched work. “And this?”

“Ground pepper,” Harry sighed as though stating the obvious. “Like the ingredients call for.” In a flash of inspiration, Harry waved at the wall where the ingredients appeared in his own untidy scrawl. It would have to serve.

Severus turned to face him, standing temptingly close. The sneer with which Harry was treated called back the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeons. Harry shivered at the remembered cold. “How long have you been in my class, Mr Potter?”

Harry pursed his lips and turned a petulant expression on the man. “Five years, sir,” he said. The man’s eyes widened just perceptively.

“And in these five years, have I not managed to penetrate that thick skill of yours enough to impart to you the difference between grinding and... This?” He waved his hand at the contents of the mortar.

“Apparently not,” Harry said angrily.

“Clearly,” Severus said, eyes glittering maliciously. “It would appear a more hands-on approach is called for.” The words slithered down Harry’s spine, creating waves of shivers in their wake. “Take up the pestle, Mr Potter.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, irritably tossing aside the oven glove and taking up the pestle with the most childish impudence he could muster. He thought he could see amusement playing around Severus’ mouth, but the expression was corrected when he wrapped his own hand around Harry’s. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as the man pressed against him from behind.

“Grind, Mr Potter,” the man said barely above a whisper.

Harry let a breathy laugh escape.

“Think this is funny, do you?” Severus growled.

“No, sir,” Harry mumbled, pulling himself together in as much as was possible with the man’s cock hard against the small of his back. He took up the pestle and began tapping the contents of the bowl. It wasn’t proper form, he knew, but he was looking forward to the correction. Severus’ hand tightened over his own, stopping his amateur movements. 

“If I didn’t know better, Mr Potter, I would say you were being deliberately dense.” He peeled Harry’s fingers away from the pestle and replaced them in a proper grip. His own hand lay over Harry’s. They felt warm and smooth against his own. His other hand gripped the counter to Harry’s left. He bit his lip and shifted into the strange embrace.

Severus’ grip tightened over his as he guided Harry’s movements, crushing downward and twisting the wooden pestle against the ceramic dish. The technique was admittedly much smoother than Harry’s, even when he was making an honest effort. “This, Mr Potter, is how you grind,” he said in a low voice against Harry’s ear. The man’s hips pressed forward, trapping him against the counter. Harry’s own hips canted back. 

“Like that?” he said breathlessly.

Severus abruptly released Harry’s hand, but did not move away. “Continue,” he instructed and Harry took up the rhythm that Severus had begun. He trembled slightly, but on the whole was doing a fair job at keeping in his role as wayward student. “It would appear you are indeed capable of learning, Mr Potter.” High praise coming from this particular man.

“It would appear that you are indeed capable of teaching, Professor,” Harry countered.

“Twenty points for your cheek. And another 10 points for neglecting this concoction you call soup.” Severus moved to the stove taking up the wooden spoon-cum-sex toy... stirring rod. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a moment to readjust himself. He wore a disgruntled expression, but inwardly smirked as he saw the man pick up a spoon to taste. The look on his face was truly priceless as he first sipped and then gagged on the soup.

Harry had a hard time suppressing the laugh threatening to bubble out his mouth. He raised his eyebrows into what he hoped would be an innocent expression.

Severus dragged his sleeve over his mouth and turned an enraged expression on Harry. Harry took a step back. “What?” he said weakly. He could no longer tell if the man were acting.

“How much salt have you put in here, Mr Potter?”

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from grinning. He willed himself to appear indignant. “Four tablespoons,” he said. “Like it says.”

Severus’ hand lashed out to curl around the back of Harry’s neck. He pushed him forward toward where the ingredients were written on the wall. “Read it,” he growled, fingers pressing painfully around his neck.

“F-four t... teaspoons,” Harry said, biting his bottom lip.

“Per what quantity liquid?”

“Three pints, sir.”

Severus pulled him forcefully toward the stove. “How much liquid is in the pan, Mr Potter?”

“Two pints, sir.”

“So you are capable of reading,” the man said caustically, releasing his hold on Harry’s neck with a rough push. Severus waved his hand irritably, banishing the entire mess (wordlessly, wandlessly, Harry might have pointed out, but decided it wasn’t the time).

Severus’ turned, walking to the table with his hands clasped behind his back. “Sit,” he ordered, and Harry scurried to follow. As he sat, Severus loomed over him. “Shall we go through the list of your transgressions?”

Harry swallowed and fixed his features into a sullen expression.

“First, you come to my class dressed as a Muggle.” The amount of disgust he put into the word spoke of years pretending to be a bigot for the good of the cause.

“My robes are-“

“I did not give you leave to speak,” Severus shouted, his fingers snatching Harry’s jaw and digging into the skin. Harry clenched his teeth, feeling very much like a scolded child. A scolded child with an erection.

“Through sheer incompetence, you have wasted precious provisions. You have been petulant, intractable and generally disrespectful. You are in danger of failing my class, Mr Potter, endangering your future aspirations to become the Wizarding world’s gift to law enforcement.” He offered a disdainful sneer before continuing. “But if I fail you, I will no doubt have to defend myself against your rather tenacious fanclub,” he said releasing Harry’s jaw in favour of gripping the chair back on either side of the younger man. “Because I am a merciful man—“

Harry barely managed to suppress an incredulous laugh. Severus narrowed his eyes as though daring him to drop character. “I am prepared to offer you the opportunity to redeem yourself. We’ll call it extra credit.” He gave an unpleasant smile and then stood again.

“What do I have to do?” Harry said warily, although his cock twitched eagerly in his trousers.

“We are going to teach you to follow instructions, Mr Potter. And if you fail to meet my standard, you will be punished.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do? Spank me?”

Severus’ eyebrow lifted. Harry offered the briefest of encouraging smiles before returning to his erstwhile pose of insolent teenager.

“Punishment will fit the crime, Mr Potter. Act like a child and you will be punished like a child.”

“And if I meet your expectations?” Harry asked defiantly.

Severus gave a dark laugh. “Oh, Mr Potter,” he said silkily. “I expect you will fail. But should you please me, I may give you the opportunity to win back your house points.” He gave a look that spoke volumes as to how likely he thought that would be. “Have we got an agreement, Mr Potter? Bearing in mind that if you refuse, you will be out on your celebrated arse and your future career prospects will be limited.”

Harry gave a steady look. “Fine,” he said, feigning reluctance. Severus narrowed his eyes. “Yes, sir,” Harry corrected.

“Humility, Mr Potter, is key to obedience. You will learn it... one way or another.” Severus gave a menacing smirk. “Get out of those ridiculous clothes.”

“Sorry?” Harry said, eyes wide.

“Severus waved his wand and Harry yelped as a biting pain streaked across his backside, although he was still seated. His hand went to stroke the painful sting.”

“Let’s try this again. You have come to my class inappropriately attired. If you cannot manage to ensure your robes are laundered and ready in time for your courses, you will go without. Take off your clothes,” Severus ordered forcefully.

Harry narrowed his eyes before kicking off his boots. He stood to pull his t-shirt off and then stopped as his hands touched the button of his jeans. “Er... sir?” he said, looking down as though embarrassed. “I can’t take off my jeans,” he mumbled and then looked up through his lashes, applauding his former decision to go commando.

“Are they spelled on?” Severus said, stepping forward so that Harry had to bend his head back to see him properly. He stilled an almost uncontrollable urge to explore tthe deep folds of those robes and scratch the pale skin beneath. Bite it and mark it. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to refocus. He swallowed. “No... I ... er...”

Severus flicked his wand again. The stinging whip lashed at him, this time curling around his thigh to tickle the inside. Harry gasped, staggering forward, hands extended to catch himself against Snape. His breath came hard as he recovered from the perfect assault.

“I’m beginning to think you want to be punished,” Snape intoned, pushing Harry away. “A simple order, Mr Potter. I will give you one last chance. Remove your trousers or, so help me, I will strip you bare myself.”

Harry bit his lip. “But...” He gave a frustrated sigh before undoing his jeans. He met the man’s eyes brazenly before pushing them down to pool at his feet. Harry’s hands moved quickly to hide his rock hard... shame. He would have been beyond mortified were the circumstances real. But well, he would not likely have been aroused in those days. He now couldn’t imagine why not.

Severus’ expression was blank for a moment before a sinister smirk appeared. “Am I to understand that your smallclothes are also in the wash? Or is your detention conflicting with another rendezvous?” Severus circled him, eyeing him as if he were some nasty insect that he was appraising for its value as a potions ingredient.

“Seen enough?” Harry growled.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you, Potter? We’re going to have to teach you humility the hard way. You will learn to obey me. Turn around and put your hands on the table.”

Harry’s heart thundered as he turned to obey. He struggled to imagine how his sixteen year old self would react in this situation. His twenty-two-year-old self was only too eager. His twenty-two-year-old arse arched upward in anticipation. Harry turned his head in time to see a flat wooden spatula fly into Severus’ waiting hand.

“Eyes forward,” Severus said curtly, stalking forward to stand behind him. “Now, Mr Potter. Can you tell me why you’re being punished?”

“Because I’ve been...” a very naughty boy, Harry finished silently. His grin flashed quickly before he could rein it in. “Disrespectful.”

“And is it appropriate to be disrespectful to your Professors?” Severus traced a long finger along what Harry was certain to be a mark from his previous magical lashing.

“No, sir,” Harry murmured quietly.

“You deserve this punishment, don’t you, Potter.” Severus’ finger dropped to the curve of his arse cheek to trace the line of the second blow.

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” he corrected.

“You will keep count, Mr Potter. We wouldn’t want to get carried away.”

Harry felt the cool flatness lay across his naked flesh. His cock twitched with excitement as he held his breath in anticipation. He released it when the blow didn’t come. Snape let the moment draw out interminably until Harry was practically panting with expectation.

Suddenly, the blow landed with a sharp slap that stung exquisitely. Harry’s breath was expelled in a loud blast. “One,” he remembered to say after a moment. No sooner had he spoke than the second came, harder than the first, setting his nerves alight with pain. “Two,” he gasped, spreading his legs wider to brace for the third and fourth. The fifth landed at the top of his thigh, causing him to hiss in pain. The sixth rejoined the first blow, while the seventh and eighth assaulted his thighs once more. Harry whimpered as the ninth fell across his inflamed arse. “Nine,” he choked out, breathing hard and bracing himself for another. 

He flinched at the feel of a naked palm sliding across the tender flesh, landing as softly as the voice whispering, “ten” with such seductive smoothness that Harry could feel the words crawl inside him. “You will thank me for my efforts,” the man said, fingers stroking over the abused skin. “It is not every student who receives my individual attention.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Harry breathed toward the table, dropping to his elbows to recover.

“Turn around,” Severus ordered and Harry reluctantly pushed himself up to obey. He went to lean against the edge of the table and then thought better of it given the current state of his bum. He looked up to see an amused smirk on the man’s face. Harry’s hands crossed in front of him, one hand giving his cock a soothing squeeze.

“Eyes down, Mr Potter. You will not look at me unless I give you permission. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said meekly, eyes falling to focus on the polished tips of Snape’s boots.

“On your knees,” Severus said.

Harry’s tongue swept over his bottom lip. He tried for a disgruntled expression as he dropped to the floor, hands still covering his erection.

“Put your hands on your knees.”

Harry pulled his lip between his teeth, hesitating to obey. He wouldn’t want Professor Snape to see his erection. This would have been essential to his sixteen-year-old self.

“Defiance again, Mr Potter? Are you looking to be punished?” Snape said with sinister eagerness.

“No, sir,” Harry answered. Not just yet anyway. His arse already burnt against the contact with the cool soles of his feet.

“Hands on your knees,” Severus ordered again. Harry took a deep breath and then obeyed, releasing his cock, which sprung forward readily. Severus’ foot slid forward to wedge itself between Harry’s knees, which widened accommodatingly.

“Interesting,” Snape intoned, pressing his foot further to brush against Harry’s thighs. “If this is your reaction to punishment, Potter, I do not wonder you’re incapable of obedience. His fingers combed through the hair on Harry’s head. “I suspect it’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

You should know, Harry wanted to say, reasonably certain that Severus was in a similar predicament. But you would not know it by looking at him. He maintained a flawlessly cruel demeanour, which Harry found both impressive and surprisingly annoying. He didn’t like to be the only one struggling to remain in character. He wondered what it would take to get the man to falter.

“Yes, sir,” he answered in a tight voice.

“Are you aching for relief?” Severus’ fingers curled cruelly into his hair.

Harry took a deep breath through his nose. “Yes, sir,” he admitted. The head of his prick peeked out from beneath his foreskin and shone.

“We’re not here for your pleasure, are we, Mr Potter?”

Harry’s mouth curled into a little smile. “No, sir.”

“No,”Severus agreed. “Whose pleasure are we seeing to today?”

“Yours, Professor Snape,” Harry said, sincerely wanting to see to the man’s pleasure right now, but it was rather difficult to orchestrate events when one was playing submissive.

Snape’s voice was thick with amusement when he said, “Good boy.” He released his grip on Harry’s hair and stroked his head soothingly. “And do you know what would give me great pleasure, Potter?” Severus reached down to tilt Harry’s chin upward. Harry’s eyes met the dark tunnels that were Snape’s. “Putting you in your place,” Severus finished, his thumb sliding across Harry’s bottom lip. Harry’s tongue swept out to chase it, but it disappeared in an instant.

“This is a good look for you. I think we’ll preserve it.” He could see the man’s wand swish in his peripheral vision and a second later, he felt the familiar sensation of the cock ring spell wrap around his cock and balls. Harry gave a little moan as the spell cut off any chance he had for release. His hands clenched over his thighs.

“Now, as you ruined lunch, I will give you the chance to make it up to me,” Severus said. “You may stand.”

Harry raised himself up, eyes still cast downward. He was very eager to make up for his transgression in any way the man would let him. His brain began compiling a list. 

“The ingredients,” Severus intoned, waving his wand toward the wall where Harry’s bogus soup recipe was replaced by what looked to be a bolognaise sauce written in Severus’ sharp script. “Do not disappoint me, Potter.”

Harry furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. Cooking was not on his list and was certainly not what he had in mind for the afternoon’s activities, but he supposed they had to eat at some point. Cooking starkers would certainly be a new experience.

Harry dutifully set to gathering the ingredients he would need and lay them on the counter. The sting in his arse was waning in the cool air of the room. At the edge of his vision he saw Severus light a fire in the fireplace.

When Harry began finely chopping onions, he felt the warm presence of the man behind him. He unconsciously leaned back toward the warmth and was pleased when the man did not move away. Harry worked quickly without pretence of incompetence this time as he minced garlic, chopped basil and oregano and added it all to the hot olive oil heating in the pan.

“How quickly we learn,” Severus said, clearly amused at Harry’s haste to get through the whole process. Harry gave an irritable frown at the bacon he was chopping. He turned quickly to add it to the pan and stopped just before running into the man. He chanced a quick peek at Snape’s expression. The slight flush of his cheeks, the heated gaze. Severus’ hand came up to stroke Harry’s cheek.

Harry lowered his gaze. His hand reached into the fold of the man’s robes as he stepped around him. His cock brushed against the man’s leg and Harry clenched his jaw around a needy moan that tried to be heard. Every step he made, Snape was there looming temptingly close. The proximity was oppressive. Harry emptied the container of mince, moving it around in the pan to brown. All the while Severus watched him, hands kept sagely clasped behind his back as he assessed Harry’s work. When Harry emptied the tin of tomatoes into the mix, Snape helpfully handed over the phallic stirring rod.

Harry pressed his lips together to hide a smile and gave the mix a stir before beginning to fill a pan with water. “What do you think you’re doing?” Severus growled.

“Making pasta, sir,” Harry said in a tone of someone pointing out the obvious.

“Are you,” Severus drawled in a low voice. “Can you show me where in the instructions written here does it say anything about pasta?”

Harry didn’t need to look. There was nothing there. He let the pan drop in the sink. “No, sir,” he said, admittedly confused by what he had been preparing if not a pasta sauce.

Severus sighed. “And we were doing so well,” he said smugly. “Return to your stirring, Mr Potter,” he ordered and Harry did, puzzled but heartened by the aborted attempt to make lunch. Sauce would keep, he told himself. He glanced again at the last instruction which said, “salt to taste.” As he reached for the salt, he once again felt the man pressing against his backside. The man’s desire was rigid against his hip. Harry pressed back against it with a small smile.

He felt the knuckles of the back of Severus’ hand drag down his spine, two fingers unfurling at the end to brush slikly into the cleft of his arse. Harry spread his legs eagerly, closing his eyes and silently encouraging those fingers onward.

“You’re not stirring, Potter,” Severus breathed close to Harry’s ear. The dark hair tickled Harry’s shoulders as Severus bent his head low to drag his tongue up Harry’s neck. Two fingers pushed inside him.

“God,” Harry moaned, tilting his arse back to urge the fingers deeper. He took a deep breath, attempting to continue the fairly useless stirring as Severus’ fingers fucked him. Stretching out before him, untended, Harry’s cock wept from neglect.

“Once again you force me to punish you, Potter. What will it take to make you pay attention to orders?” Severus’ voice was rough and low as he continued to stretch Harry in preparation of what was to come. Harry bit his lip in anticipation, thinking he would welcome whatever it was.

Severus’ fingers slipped out, and Harry thought his knees might give out in their absence. The older man turned off the cooker, sliding the pan away from the heat and then took up the stirring rod, holding it in front of Harry’s face.

“Look at me,” he said roughly. Harry was happy to oblige, allowing his desperation to shine proudly on his expression. “Lick it clean,” Severus ordered.

Harry set to the task, extending his tongue and swirling it to gather every bit of the sauce from the bulbed tip. He could see the desire in Severus’ own expression, which encouraged him to do a proper job of the task at hand. He added his lips to the task, wrapping them around the end and taking the rod further in, cleaning it of the (quite nice, really) sauce.

“That will be quite enough,” Severus said, flashing a smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. He resumed his dark glare and took up a kitchen towel to slide it over the rest of the length and then tapped his wand against the thing. The rod shortened, developing a much larger bulb at the distal end. The business end of the thing developed a series of round ribs which increased progressively in size. Severus dribbled drops of olive oil over the length. Harry watched in breathless anticipation.

“Follow me, Potter,” Severus said, sweeping past him to go and sit in his chair before the fire. Harry followed, led by his cock stretching stalwartly before him. He gave it a quick reassuring squeeze and then quickly released it when his eyes met Severus’ warning glare. Harry knelt beside the chair. A picture of perfect submission.

“I have a dilemma, Potter. On the one hand, you managed to prepare your assignment at a standard well above what I have come to expect from you. For this, you should be rewarded.” Harry’s eyes focussed on the implement in Snape’s hand. A long finger swirled around the tip teasingly. Harry swallowed back an increasingly urgent need.

“And then you once again commit the error of hubris, presuming to fill a task you thought I wanted. Initiative is not what I asked of you, Mr Potter. What did I ask?”

“Obedience,” Harry said, eyes still trained on the spoon-cum-stirring rod-cum butt plug.

“And humility,” Severus reminded him. “And for this transgression, I must punish you,” he finished. “I think we’ve discovered that a hands-on approach has been effective in the past. Perhaps it will prove to be the case again. Stand up.”

Harry obeyed, taking advantage of his position to drink in the sight of the man forbiddingly clad in his robes, buttoned up high on his neck.

“Lie across my lap.” The man slid forward on the chair to facilitate the task. Harry eagerly obeyed, adjusting himself to balance around the arms of the chain. His cock was pressed tightly between his abdomen and Severus’ thigh. It was all he could do to keep himself from frotting against the man.

Severus urged Harry’s thighs apart. “This is your reward, Potter. And your punishment.” Harry held his breath as he felt the small round tip slide down the cleft of his arse and stop at his entrance which clenched reflexively. Harry groaned as the end penetrated him. Severus worked it slowly inside, twisting it. Harry could feel himself stretch wider as the thing made its slow progression inward until finally his arse closed over the widest end.

Harry’s head hung toward the floor, his fingertips helping to keep his weight balanced. He moaned ecstatically at the feeling of being so filled. There was none of the pain from their earlier play, only the delicious pressure that Harry was quickly becoming familiar with. 

The first slap across his arse came as a surprise. His arse clenched hard around the implement inside and his cock ground against the silky fabric of Severus’ robes. Harry cried out at the mix of pleasure and pain that sent his already frayed nerve endings singing once more. “Wa-one,” he whimpered and was rewarded by a second blow aimed perfectly to off just a little jolt to his insides, the barest amount of friction against his cock. Severus’ hand rested against his arse, rubbing away the pain and causing the plug to circle inside him.

“You love this don’t you, Potter. Tell me.”

“Yes, sir. I love it. Please,” Harry eagerly babbled.

“Another?”

“Please,” Harry breathed again. Severus hand came down hard, the slap resounding in the stone room, followed quickly by another. Harry’s sensitive flesh protested the treatment while his cock rejoiced at the sensation, any sensation at all. A fourth blow landed, followed by the same maddening caress of Harry’s arse. Severus’ palm pressed against the end of the plug, offering the barest amount of movement. Torture. Exquisite torture, and Harry’s whole body welcomed it.

On it went. Harry stopped keeping count in favour of rocking his hips against the man’s legs in desperate need of release, praying for it, although he knew it could not come before Snape allowed it. His arse was raw, his bollocks tight and aching.

“Kneel down in front of me,” Severus said and Harry took a moment to gather his wits enough to comply. He positioned himself between Severus’ knees, eyes cast downward. The bulb of the plug pressed into the soles of his feet, pushing the implement further inside him.

“You may undo my trousers,” Severus said magnanimously.

Harry moaned as he knelt up, hands sliding up the man’s legs before parting his robes over his thighs. He pressed briefly against the tight bulge at the apex. Harry’s hands shook slightly, fingers fumbling over the fastenings, frantic to get at what he knew was hidden inside. His mouth dropped open in anticipation. 

This was on the list. Top on his list of things to do before the end. What he lacked in experience, he made up for in eagerness to please. He wanted to bring the man to completion on his own terms. His own arousal was momentarily forgotten in the fury of desire to render the man incoherent if only for the moment of blissful release. He’d seen a hint of what that looked like earlier, but was himself rather taken in the moment to encode much of it to memory. And that was what this whole experience was about. Creating memories for each of them to revisit in the months and years to come.

Harry was determined to make sure Severus would rethink his decision to stay dead.

He delicately tugged down the zip to find that he wasn’t the only one going commando today. The thought made him grin up at the man who watched his progress with a rapt expression. Harry’s fingers encircled Severus’ erection.

“I didn’t tell you to touch me,” Severus said, clearly struggling now to maintain his forbidding demeanour.

Emboldened by the man’s struggle, Harry gave a small smirk. “I didn’t ask,” he said, before descending to take as much of the man into his mouth as he could in one go, moaning as the flavour of soap and Snape permeated his tongue. Above him, the man echoed his own pleasure. Harry’s tongue twirled as he slid up, toying with the angry red head before he slipped down again.

His arse clenched with every movement he made. The man’s encouraging moans and quiet gasps cheered him on in his progress. Whenever he came up, his hand stroked firmly, tongue teasing the tip, teeth grazing lightly . Severus’ hands tightened around Harry’s hair, his hips flexing under Harry’s ministrations.

Harry raised his eyes to find the man’s expression taut with pleasure. “Do I please you, sir,” he asked with a grin, fingers sliding the foreskin back and forth over the head. He extended his tongue to poke at the slit.

“’It’s a good start,” Severus breathed.

Harry gave a delighted laugh before descending again, sucking hard. The surprised gasp from above spurred him on. He urged Severus’ hips further down to allow him room to take the man into his throat, swallowing around him and groaning. Severus’ cock was as great in width as in length and it filled Harry’s mouth until his jaw ached around it.

The man’s breathing became increasingly urgent and peppered with curses and encouragements as Harry continued. His hands guided Harry’s head, pushing down until Harry choked around him. Harry fought against the insistent hands, mouth suckling and tongue twirling around the tip as his hand worked the man toward completion. He raised his eyes in time to see the man throw his head back, hurling a strangled shout toward the ceiling as Harry’s mouth was filled with the bitter salty evidence of Severus’ pleasure. Harry lapped it up, moaning appreciatively, careful not to let a drop mar the pristine black fabric of Severus’ robes.

Severus slid off the chair, forcing Harry to scurry backward to give him room, and kissed Harry heatedly. Severus’ tongue filled his mouth as his cock had done seconds before. Harry’s own arousal demanded to be heeded, his cock insistently prodding the other man’s stomach. “You make a terrible submissive,” Severus teased against his mouth, his hand moving down to grip Harry’s cock.

Harry gave a weak laugh. “Maybe you can show me how it’s done,” he countered and then kissed the man again. “I want to fuck you,” he breathed.

Severus pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed this was about my pleasure, Mr Potter,” he said, although his fingers began unfastening his robes.

Harry gave a wicked grin. “It was. And now I will take my reward,” Harry insisted, hands pulling the man’s hips against his own, his mouth closing over Severus’ newly exposed throat.

“You think you should be rewarded for disobeying me?” 

“I can beg, if you like,” Harry said with a pouty expression.

Severus shrugged out of his robes. Harry bid them a fond farewell as he slid his hands over the man’s bare chest. He couldn’t say which way he liked him better, but the Severus kneeling before him now was just as delicious as the Professor Snape had been before.

Severus’ fingers stroked down Harry’s back, before pressing his fingers against the ball still wedged between Harry’s arse cheeks. Harry gave a small whimper, pushing Severus’ trousers down below his bum. Harry turned his palm upward, summoning lubricant before spreading it over his cock.

Severus shifted to remove his trousers before turning to put his hands on the chair, arse canting backward in wait. Harry didn’t need more encouragement than that. He thrust inside, pushing past the resistance and into the tight heat. His own arse clenched tightly around the plug filling him. He might have come on entry but for the band of magic preventing it. His body shuddered convulsively. He leant forward against Severus’ shoulder, biting firmly as his body recovered from the initial shockwaves. Severus gasped, reaching behind to grab Harry’s arse.

“God you feel incredible,” Harry whispered, kissing the man’s neck as he began rocking his hips. Every movement was agony owing to the sheer intensity of his arousal. The feeling of penetrating and being penetrated was maddening. Harry paused again when he was fully buried, taking a moment to will his body to adjust. To run his hands over the smooth naked skin of the man breathing roughly in front of him.

Severus twisted his head around to kiss Harry slowly, deliciously. “Hard and fast,” he breathed. Harry nodded, not having the breath it took to respond. He pulled back, one hand on Severus’ hip and the other clutching his shoulder as he slammed back in, forcing the man back to meet him. He took up a punishing rhythm, unsure of whose punishment it was, not worrying about angles or stamina, but driven by his own need for a release that would only come at this man’s discretion. Each inward thrust caused his arse to squeeze painfully over the implement inside him, cause his bollocks to constrict even tighter.

Severus’ hips moved to meet him, arse choking him every time he slammed back in. Harry shut his eyes tightly as he continued to drive toward an edge that was ever out of reach. “Severus,” he pleaded. “God... Sev,” he begged, never arresting his harsh rhythm, as though the movement alone kept him from losing his tenuous hold on his sanity. 

His whole body seized as the bands were released, his climax coming violently, painfully. For what felt like an eternity, his body spasmed to wring pleasure from him. His mouth opened in a silent scream that eventually squeezed out of his throat like a death rattle. Eventually, he was released from his ecstasy and he fell forward, forehead resting at the back of Severus’ neck. Every outward breath was a small mad laugh. 

“Fu-fu-fuck-ing-hell,” he panted. He reached around to pull the plug out of the painfully tight grip of his arse and banished it to the bin.

“Well said,” Severus laughed, letting his own head fall to the seat of his chair.

Harry performed a cleaning charm and then wrapped his arms around the man in a tight embrace, pulling him back with him as he sat on the floor, planting grateful kisses along the man’s neck, ears, shoulders until finally, Severus’ mouth captured his own. 

“We’ll run away,” Harry whispered urgently. “And do that for the rest of our lives.” His legs encircled Severus’ waist as though determined to keep him.

“The novelty would wear off over time,” the older man said with a half smile.

“It’s a very long list, Severus,” Harry insisted, nuzzling the man’s hair. “I could keep you entertained for a few years at least.”

“Of that, I have little doubt,” Severus said, leaning his head against Harry’s shoulder. 

“My arse hurts,” Harry remarked with a very pleased grin.

Severus laughed. “It was your idea,” he pointed out.

“’M not complaining,” Harry said. “You were fantastic. Who knew Professor Snape was such a sexy bastard?”

“Some of your more observant classmates,” Severus said with a smirk. “Not Gryffindors, of course. But I did fend off a few inappropriate advances in my time.”

“No,” Harry said, both scandalized and intrigued. “Really?” He shook his head at the very thought. “Brave souls,” he said in awe.

“Indeed,” Severus said. “They quickly learned the error of their ways.” He smirked at some remembered cruelty.

Harry snorted. “Detentions might have been more interesting if corporal punishment were allowed.” He dragged his nose over the skin of Severus’ neck, inhaling the man’s smell.

Severus grunted. “There has been a certain measure of catharsis in this whole exercise,” Severus said. “I’d have given my wand for the opportunity to punish you properly in those days. Although, given your reaction to it, I’m not sure ‘punishment’ is the right word.”

“Was I that bad?” Harry said doubtfully.

Severus grunted. “I think perhaps neither of us were as bad as the other imagined.”

“I think you’re right,” Harry said. Particularly from his side.

“I’m pleased to have had a chance to come to that conclusion,” Severus said, meeting his eyes.

Harry beamed. “I’m glad to know you too, Severus,” he teased. “Although I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Dumbledore had in mind.”

Severus snorted and pulled himself up to a seated position. He turned to rest his back against the chair, his long legs reaching out on either side of Harry. “You might be surprised,” he said with a smirk.

Harry gave an incredulous laugh. “He’d die of shock to see us like this,” he insisted, his mind offering up an image to go along with the thought.

Severus nodded and smiled. “He might. But not before spouting something suitably sentimental for which I’d have been forced to hex him.”

“Did he know you were gay?” Harry asked, pulling his knees up to hug them.

Severus tilted his head to the side. “There was little the man didn’t know about me. The two of you have that in common.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about you. Not really.” He had a few memories, sure. He understood why the man turned spy for the cause. He knew the man’s upbringing hadn’t been a picnic and that the man’s school years were likely miserable thanks to Harry’s father. But these things made up a scant outline of the man. He had no idea of the details.

Severus gave a disgruntled look. “Harry, no one alive knows more about me than you. Why do you think Dumbledore chose you for his mission?”

Harry shrugged, feeling an inexplicable rush of warmth spread through him. “I suppose because he knew you had given me the memories. He knew I was the only one who would know exactly what you did.”

“And how many people do you think have had such an intimate viewing of my past?”

The idea of having an intimate knowledge of this enigmatic man pleased Harry a great deal. “Yeah,” he conceded. Still, he ardently wanted to know more.

“I think he wanted me to get to know you,” Severus said thoughtfully. “It was very important for him that I see you for who you are and not for what your father was.”

Harry lowered his eyes, mouth twisting in dismay at the delicate subject. “He was horrible to you,” Harry said. “It’s hard to reconcile the man everyone tells me he was with the man I’ve seen in your memories.”

Severus gave a small smile. “I wasn’t precisely innocent. We were kids.”

Harry couldn’t help but think that youth was a poor excuse for targeting some poor kid with an unfortunately large nose and over-active oil glands. He offered a wry smile in return for Severus’ admission. “I suppose you’ve had the last laugh.”

Severus’ eyes widened with shock, his mouth dropped open. Harry giggled at his expression. Once he recovered, Severus shook his head. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he said incredulously, sending Harry into another round of laughter. Severus smirked. “Although now you mention it. The revenge has been particularly sweet.” He gave Harry a strange look before saying, “You have a twisted sense of humour, Harry. I like that in a man.”

Harry moved closer to the man, legs bending to fit under Snape’s arms. He leant in for a kiss. “What else do you like in a man?”

Severus met his eyes. “A heartbeat. Cock.” He shrugged.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave an impatient look. 

“I don’t have a particular type, Harry. It isn’t as though I’m looking for a life partner. I like the type of man who is attracted to me. They’re a rare enough breed that I don’t tend to bother myself over small details like hair colour and hobbies.”

It sounded incredibly sad to Harry, although he’d be hard-pressed to describe his own perfect mate. “Don’t you ever want to settle with someone?”

Severus snorted. “I can’t settle down with a Wizard for obvious reasons. And I have no desire to spend my life hiding the fundamental parts of my being from a Muggle. It wouldn’t be fair to either party.”

Harry gave the man a long look. After a moment his mouth twisted into a smile. “I suppose you’ll have to run away with me after all,” he said.

“And steal you away from your bride to be?” Severus said, invoking an agonized groan from Harry who let his head fall forward onto Severus’ shoulder. 

“Would you?” he whispered. “Because that would solve everything.” He gave a hopeless little laugh.

Severus turned his head to kiss Harry’s ear. “You have a choice, you know.”

“I know.” Harry raised his head and pressed a kiss to the man’s mouth. His arms wrapped around Severus’ neck. “I choose to put off thinking about it until tomorrow.”

“Brilliant idea,” Severus said with a smile. “And now as much as I enjoy watching you prance around naked, I think we should at least attempt to finish lunch.”

Harry grinned wickedly. “I’ve already eaten.”

Severus gave him a look before twisting his nipple. “Up,” he ordered.

Lunch was a fairly quick affair. The spaghetti was cooked, sauce reheated. Severus prepared a quick salad of tomatoes and onions to use up what was left in their stores before they both returned to their real lives in the morning. A bottle of red was opened to toast the end of their holidays, which neither were particularly disposed to celebrating. They ate mostly silently. Harry remarked that spaghetti bolognaise had only recently became his favourite dish. Severus observed that his mother’s recipe had never tasted quite so nice. He kept the observation to himself, not wanting to risk sounding too sentimental.

Apart from the occasional brushes of shifting feet under the table, the furtive, meaningful smiles, lunch would have appeared to the outside observer an amicable affair between two old friends. When the plates were cleared and the dishes sent away to wash themselves, the bottle of wine was brought over to the fire. Surveying the chairs poised before the fireplace, a mutual decision was taken to silently rearrange the furniture, so that the sofa replaced the chairs. The chairs took the place of the sofa before the window. Intent on preserving Severus’ aesthetic tastes, Harry summoned his grey duvet from his bedroom to cover the garish oranges and purples of the late Headmaster’s sofa. 

The two men sat at a respectable distance discussing nothing in particular. As conversations often do, theirs trailed through history to touch on their respective childhoods. Severus discussed his rather fraught relationship with his father. Harry recounted his time with the Dursleys with a rare candour. Both became appropriately incensed on the other’s behalf.

“Your aunt has always been a particularly nasty piece of work,” Severus grumbled. “If I could have just two minutes with those people...” Severus’ hand twitched reflexively.

Harry gave a dark smile. “I suppose neither of us would win any awards for Happiest Childhood,” he concluded. Severus nodded to concede the point.

“To a happier adulthood,” he said, raising his glass.

Harry sighed and touched his glass to Severus’ before drinking. “I’ve got to do something,” he said after a moment of silence. Resolve solidified within him. Happiness was an elusive beast that needed courting. He was tired of waiting for it to come and he had a pretty good idea of what he needed to do to extend a formal invitation.

Severus reached over to rub his knee. Harry covered his hand with his own and squeezed. “You’ll do what you have to. You always have.” Severus didn’t move his had away when Harry’s fingers threaded through his own.

“I’m sure you’ll hear all about it,” Harry laughed.

Severus snorted. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Harry grinned, turning Severus’ hand over in his own. He ran an index finger over the lines on the man’s palm, trying to recall his lessons in palm reading and failing miserably. Severus looked to have a long lifeline. Or was that the head line? He shook his head to rid it of nonsense and looked up. “Have you ever been here in summer?” he asked as non-chalantly as he could manage.

Severus gave him an incredulous look before shaking his head. “Just the summer after the war.”

“Right,” Harry said, kicking himself for the stupid question. “I imagine it’s nice.” Harry met Severus’ eye before lowering his own awkwardly.

“It has its merits,” Severus allowed.

Harry had stopped listening and now bit his lip and concentrated on composing his next question. “So, maybe... this summer if you could get away...”

Severus’ voice was tired when he said, “Harry.”

“I realise that Americans are notoriously stingy with vacation time-“

“I’m self-employed,” Severus interrupted irritably. “But it doesn’t-“

“Just a week. This summer. To celebrate...my finally getting my head out of my arse,” he laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Severus sighed wearily and pursed his lips. “Now, that would be cause for celebration,” he said sardonically.

Harry smiled. “You may be the only person still talking to me by then,” he said.

“I doubt that’s true,” Severus said. He pulled his hand out of Harry’s grip to bring it to Harry’s face. “Whatever else you Gryffindors might be, you’re a fiercely loyal bunch.” He patted Harry’s cheek.

Harry gave a bland look. “You’re forgetting that Gin’s Gryffindor too,” he pointed out. He gave a small teasing smile and leant forward. “I think I agree with Dumbledore. You were sorted too soon. You’d have made a fine Gryffindor,” he said, knowingly provoking the man. He captured Severus’ bottom lip between his own, effectively arresting the sneer that tried to form.

“If that ridiculous hat had tried to put me in Gryffindor, I’d have stayed on that stool until it changed its mind,” Severus said, shifting to allow Harry to sit astride his lap.

“Did you know I was almost sorted into Slytherin?” Harry asked. He couldn’t remember ever telling the man. “Of course, that might have been the... soul thing.”

Severus snorted. “Ah yes. Your inner Dark Lord,” he said, nuzzling under Harry’s chin to get to his throat.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, slipping his hands inside Severus’ open shirt to run his fingers over the man’s chest.

“You’re not Slytherin, Harry,” Severus informed him with a tone of absolute certainty.

Harry frowned. “I could have been... if I wanted to be.”

“You destroyed the Elder Wand,” Severus pointed out. “A Slytherin could never have done that.”

Harry looked at the man steadily. He’d never told Severus that he’d destroyed the wand, but he’d implied that he had. He didn’t know then if it was wise to let anyone know that the thing still existed. “I didn’t destroy it exactly,” he confessed. “I’ve just hidden it where no one could get to it.”

Severus blinked at the news. “A rather dangerous temptation,” he said darkly.

Harry shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “I haven’t even thought about it for years.”

Severus smirked smugly. “You prove my point. Not even Dumbledore could resist that kind of power,” he said. “And besides, your insistence on keeping the extent of your powers secret further supports my point. You’re no more Slytherin than Helga Hufflepuff.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Keeping my powers secret is necessary. There is no Dark Lord to fear, and so people will naturally suspect the man who defeated him. If my powers were widely known...” Harry shook his head. “Besides, the desire for power is not unique to Slytherin,” he pointed out. “There are other traits that characterise the members of your house.”

“Mm,” Severus agreed. “A general disposition toward evil,” Severus said with a smirk.

Harry laughed. “Well there is that,” he agreed, kissing the man. “And the drive to get what you want, by any means necessary.”

“And what is it you want, Harry,” Severus said in a low voice as the Gryffindor began his assault on Severus’ neck.

“A promise,” Harry responded, his fingers going to play with Severus’ nipple.

“Pro-“ Severus’ question was cut off by a thick tongue invading his mouoth. After the questions died on his tongue, which sprang to greet its visitor, the kiss evolved into a slow snog. For Severus, snogging had always been classed as foreplay – a means to achieve an explosive end. This kiss was for the pleasure of kissing alone. Neither man was up to anything more at the moment. Arousal was there, but couldn’t manifest itself given the events of the day.

Neither Severus nor Harry were too disappointed by this fact. Without the befuddling affects of libido, both men were free to enjoy the simple sensation of lips on lips, tongues engaging in a peculiar game of tag, teeth making the occasional cameo in the entire play. Fingertips mapped out the contours of the body opposite, encoding the details – the slight bump of a mole there, the delicate thread of scars, the hard lines of bones.

The kiss toed the uncomfortable line between what was appropriate to a strictly sexual encounter and that place that was only reserved for lovers. It was a fine line to Severus’ mind and Severus couldn’t say if the alarm bells going off in his mind were justified or not. Too close, his conscience warned him, speaking of the consequences that would surely come.

Unsurprisingly, Harry was unburdened by such nagging. He threw himself wholeheartedly into the moment, happily accepting this time as a gift that would fortify his resolve in the days to come. Harry shifted their position and guided Severus to lay along the sofa, gaining access to the other man’s torso, his stomach. Harry’s fingers continued their tour, his mouth breaking away to follow their progress.

Severus closed his eyes and his mind against the whispering of his doubts. He wanted this proximity. It was foreign to him and he resolved to enjoy the experience for the time he had it. Consequences be damned. Harry’s mouth was heaven against his skin, exciting feelings and sensations designed to confound him. Severus had never been so willingly confounded.

Harry explored and memorised the body below him. He enjoyed the twitching of muscles, the hitching of breaths that he was able to orchestrate with a well-placed bite, a play of his tongue. He undid the man’s trousers just enough to reveal the sharply jutting hip bone and ran his tongue over it, his nose following the path of his tongue while his palm cupped the man’s cock, spent now and sleepy under his hand. It gave a small lazy twitch at his touch. Harry felt an answering twitch in his own trousers.

While he still wouldn’t call himself gay, he found he enjoyed the differences between men and women. Where Ginny was round and fleshy, Severus was all bone and taut skin, lean muscle. The novelty may indeed wear off eventually, but at the moment a sense of curiosity filled him, thrilling his senses. He was enthralled by the other man. Spellbound.

Harry made his way upward, deliberately pressing his body against Severus’. He picked up the kiss where they’d left off, this time aligning his own awakening arousal against Severus’ hips and slowly grinding against him.

Severus’ hands slide firmly downward to hold onto Harry’s arse. Harry answered with a moan, toes finding purchase against the arm of the sofa to concentrate the effort of his hips. Every thrust sent a shiver of sensation not strong enough to awaken the lust of their previous couplings, but it felt nice just the same. Harry broke away once more, propping himself up on his arms to smile down at the other man.

“I don’t remember the last time I had a good honest snog,” he mused. 

Severus curled an arm beneath his head. “You’ll be pleased to know that this would be my first official snog,” he said.

Harry gave a look of disbelief. “How is that possible? You’ve never just... kissed someone? Just for the hell of it?”

Severus laughed. “Kissing was always a complement to... other activities,” he said.

“Even when you were younger? I mean... that’s how it usually starts.”

Severus shook his head. “My initiation into sexuality was rather quickly handled,” he said cryptically.

Harry didn’t like the sound of that and it must have shown on his face. Severus quickly added, “I wasn’t inclined to complain. At the time it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me.”

Harry’s expression relaxed. A fiercely protective impulse waned. “Was it.. the boy from the memory?” he asked.

Severus shook his head. “A different classmate. It was only after the first, when the inevitable rumours of my...blessing began to circulate that Evan took notice.”

Harry leant his head on his hand. “How old were you?” 

“Fourteen.”

“Fourteen!” Harry’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell.” At fourteen his only brush with sexuality had been hopeless infatuation with Cho Chang.

“Why? How old were you?” Severus asked, frowning up at him.

“Eighteen. A few days after my birthday. It was really awkward and hurried in an extremely rare moment of alone time at the Burrow,” he added.

“You’ve only been with one person?” Severus supposed he should have come to that conclusion on his own, but the idea seemed absurd to him in this day and age. Added to that Harry’s celebrity, and it was a wonder indeed.

“Two now,” Harry laughed. “I may not have been with a lot of people, but I’ve made up for it in diversity.”

“You are particularly diverse,” Severus conceded with a fond smile. “A surprise as I had been labouring under the delusion that Gryffindors had more vanilla tastes.”

“Must be my inner Slytherin.” Harry laughed at the look he received. “Vanilla’s not all bad, you know,” Harry insisted.

“I shall endeavour to keep that in mind should the opportunity present itself again,” Severus said dryly.

“Like this summer,” Harry insisted.

He didn’t give Severus the opportunity to craft a careful rejection, preferring to hold onto the moment for just awhile longer. Harry thought the man was nearly convinced anyway. He kissed him soundly once more. “I think you need a bit of hands-on experience,” Harry murmured against his mouth. He began demonstrating the many virtues of snogging.

Several hours and a round of mutual masturbation later, the remainder of the firewhisky was brought out. The two men lay on the sofa, Severus with his back to Harry’s chest, cradled in a loose but warm embrace. He felt more relaxed than he could ever recall being before, exhausted by the day’s activities and spent. Even his mind had ceased its busy worrying and quieted under the sheer force of his body’s contentment, coupled with the warm flames of the golden liquid in his tumbler.

Harry’s mind was not so serene. As the night wore on, he became increasingly aware of the rapid approach of reality. He knew what he needed to do, but the consequences would be hard to live with. Ron. The rest of the family which had always accepted him into their midst. They had adopted him as a member. He felt now how precarious a position that was. And then there was Severus...

A man he spent his youth loathing and who now lay comfortably against him, his naked skin warm and smooth against Harry’s chest. He felt... affection. An overwhelming desire to hold on tight against all reason. He knew their situation was hopeless. He knew that even should Severus accept to meet him over the summer, there could never be more than this. Harry placed a small dry kiss against the man’s shoulder.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Severus said in a deep baritone voice. How different that voice became when not laced with disdain.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Just thinking about tomorrow and...the rest.”

“You’re still intent on breaking it off?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s either that or get stuck in an unhappy marriage,” he said. And that was the problem. How could he commit to forever when today was so wrought with discord?

“Will you still tell her what you got up to this week?”

Harry laughed. “It depends on how the first part of the conversation goes. Ginny can be pretty vindictive when she’s angry. I don’t want to wake up to the headlines if she gets it in her head to take revenge.” His insides went cold at the thought.

Severus gave a dismayed grunt. “You’ll need to be particularly careful if you’re to avoid that,” Severus said. “You’re safe here, but should you continue to explore...” He paused to smirk. “The dark side. Eventually it’s bound to get out.”

The subject made Harry uncomfortable. “I’m not particularly interested in exploring outside of here anyway,” he said, frowning.

Severus twisted to look at the other man. Harry met his eyes with a defiant gaze. “Should that ever change,” Severus began, placing a finger across Harry’s lips to silence him, “as is nearly inevitable, I want a full report.” He smirked. “I should quite like to know how my student makes out.”

Harry snorted and leant in to kiss the man. “Then it should go both ways,” Harry said. “It should make for more interesting letters than the forced replies I usually get from you. Although I will hate every one of them on principle.”

Severus smiled. “The feeling will certainly be mutual,” Severus predicted. “But I’d quite like to know nevertheless.”

Harry was inexplicably pleased by the man’s admission. It must have shown as Severus promptly rolled his eyes. “If you’ve not noticed by now that jealousy is first among my many character flaws, then you are as dim as I had always accused you of being.”

Harry laughed again. “I had noticed that,” he admitted. He grinned anyway because the admission suggested that Severus would want to be in any future lover’s place. That he wanted to be with him and that were things different, in a different world, they might be together.

It was a silly sentiment, but one that made Harry feel a bit lighter anyway. It made him feel profoundly frustrated at the same time. “Severus,” he began hesitantly, “I know this... whatever it is...” He took a deep breath to carve some space in his chest. “I know we can’t be together in any real sense.” He mimicked Severus’ action and silenced the man with a finger. “I just want you to know that I wish things were different.”

Severus pursed his lips. Inside he echoed the other man’s reluctance to let this little tryst end so soon, to leave the potential unexplored. But his logic grabbed hold of the sentiment and was determined to shake some sense into it. “Harry,” he sighed irritably. “Shall we indulge this fantasy of yours for an instant?” he began, his tone infused with impatience. “Let’s divorce ourselves from this cosy little world we’ve created and look at the hard facts.”

Harry gave the man a wary look before visibly steeling himself for an argument. “All right,” he said.

“So for the sake of this exercise, I return to Wizarding Britain, which in itself would be a complicated affair.”

“Not as complicated as you might think,” Harry insisted quietly.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “So I return, and by some miracle am neither arrested nor assassinated for my efforts. You manage not to be fired for aiding and abetting a known murderer.” He paused to glare at the other man’s smug smile. “Then what? You break it off with your childhood sweetheart and the only family you’ve ever known? Which you may or may not be forgiven for... and then you shack up with me?” Harry smiled but said nothing. “The press go mad at the news. Your friends, who may forgive your failed relationship, are now faced with the befuddling news that, not only did you hide the fact that I’m alive, but you have been sleeping with me. Me, the man who – regardless of what he did for the Cause - has been a veritable bastard to the lot of you for as long as you’ve known me. And when they cannot reconcile the man they thought they knew with this man who has hidden key points of himself and betrayed one of their own... they abandon you.” Severus was pleased to see the smile had dissipated. Harry cast his eyes downward to where his thumb was busy peeling away the skin around his chewed fingernails.

“And so there we are, two men loathed and alone, but for each other. We get on well at first, drawn up into the fog of sensual exploration. And then, the worst of me comes through to find the worst of you. And we’re reduced to bickering and heated fights. We eventually both realise the mistakes we’ve made, but it’s too late to take anything back. You go your way and I go mine, and we are alone and miserable in a world that makes no effort to hide their disgust for their fallen hero and the devil that led him astray.”

Severus extricated himself from the fold of youthful limbs. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked as sour as he ever did. Reality had no place in this world and he had effectively burst the bubble of contentment by bringing it in. So be it. It was inevitable anyway.

“It’s a grim place, your head,” Harry said after a moment.

Severus snorted. “Realism is what it is,” he retorted.

“You’re right about how people would react,” Harry said. “No one would understand. I wouldn’t expect them to. I mean, they would understand why I lied for you. I’ve thought about how I would handle it if ever you decided to come back. I’m not worried about that part, Severus.” Harry met his eyes with a fierce determination that almost had Severus convinced he was right.

Almost.

“As for you and me... Well, I’ve not thought too much about that part as it’s rather new, but I’m pretty good at dealing with the press and well... My friends... I don’t know. You might be right. We might start hating each other again after the novelty wears off. But...” Harry heaved a heavy sigh. “We’ll never know, will we?” He gave a small regretful smile and managed to hold it for a few seconds before letting it fade away.

Severus’ expression was softer when he looked at Harry again. “You’re on the verge of being alone for the first time in many years, and I think you’re scared and vulnerable. It’s natural that you would latch onto the one person who is around and uninvolved.” His voice was distant, objective. It was the voice of reason. Another voice begged him to keep quiet and hold to the moment while it was available, knowing that after tomorrow there would be no such comfort.

Harry laughed a bit manically. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m turning to the only person I ever turn to when my life is spiralling out of control. That doesn’t change the fact that I want that person to be you, does it? It doesn’t make sense, but everything that does make sense feels wrong. And this doesn’t.” He drew his knees to his chest and leant his chin on top of them. “All I was trying to say is that I’ve really enjoyed being with you, and it sucks to have to stop now.”

Severus snorted. “It does ‘suck’,” he said dryly.

Harry grinned. “Sorry if I freaked you out. I hold to my promise not to stalk you... any more than I already do,” he laughed.

“I’m not freaked out,” Severus denied. “I find it’s my role to make you see reason.”

“I suppose,” Harry said. “But sometimes it might help if you indulged me a bit.”

Severus smirked. “I think you’ve had more than your fair share of indulgence, Mr Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Poor you. It must have been so hard.” Harry smirked back.

“You have no idea.”

“Maybe I have a little idea,” Harry said in a low voice. “And I think there’s a little part of you that will miss me.” Harry’s grin left no doubt as to the part in question.

“Not so little,” Severus said, reaching over to run his hand through Harry’s untidy hair. Harry leant in, eager to re-establish physical contact. He turned his head to kiss the man’s palm.

“You’d keep me if you could,” Harry whispered.

Severus ran his thumb over Harry’s lips, forcing it inside. “Like an ill-behaved house pet,” he drawled, entranced by the sight of his thumb being sucked between the pink lips.  
Harry hummed appreciatively over the digit. “Maybe I need a collar and lead.”

The words came with a very pleasing image. Severus blinked against the sudden fantasy. “We really need to review that list of yours.”

“Next time, maybe.” Harry offered a small smile. He tipped forward, folding his legs underneath him, and leant in to kiss the other man.

“Next time,” Severus echoed against his better judgment. “I’m going to bed. I have a long day of travelling before me and I need rest if I’m to refrain from hexing everyone.”

Harry frowned and lay his head on the man’s shoulder, reluctant to end the night, but determined not to make himself look more of a prat than he had already.

“Are you coming?” Severus asked casually.

A smile spread across his face. After a moment he pulled it into a stern expression. “You’re not a cuddler, are you?” he teased.

Severus turned to glare at the younger man before standing. He held out a hand to help Harry up. The two men made their way through the arduous nightly ritual of cleaning teeth and washing those parts that needed washing with an unnecessary amount of touching in between. Severus opted to sleep naked, and Harry didn’t have a mind to argue. Both slipped between the cool sheets, Harry being relegated to the foreign side of the bed.

Severus’ room was pitch dark once the lights went out. The bed quickly warmed from their combined body heat. There was no cuddling, but the men occupied the centre of the bed with a reassuring skin to skin contact. Severus lay on his side, facing away from Harry. Harry lay on his back, his side warmed by the other man.

“Goodnight Severus,” Harry whispered into the dark.

“Night,” Severus answered.

Sleep did not come easily for either man. The air buzzed with their mutual wakefulness. Severus reflected on the past week and the remarkable evolution in his previously clear-cut relationship with Harry. Harry’s mind was awash with worry about how the next few days would play out, and a strange anxious feeling whenever he thought about his now uncertain future relationship with the man sleeping next to him.

By the time sleep found them, Harry had a plan half-formed in his head for how he might explain to everyone he knew that he was in love with Severus Snape. Severus, for his part, had fallen asleep a little resigned and almost looking forward to the moment when Harry showed up on his doorstep intent on never giving up.

Several hours later, Harry woke up, pinned to the bed by a heavy, warm weight, lying halfway across his backside. He grinned fondly into his pillow, pleased that there was at least some unconscious part of Severus that sought him out. Harry reached back to lay his hand on the other man’s arse. Severus’ hips flexed against him and a groggy groan puffed against Harry’s neck.

Harry thought it must be morning, but couldn’t say for certain. Severus’ hand slid down Harry’s side, curling around the sharp angle of Harry’s hipbone. Lips pressed against his shoulder as Severus’ hips shifted until his erection nestled between Harry’s arse cheeks. Severus’ hand stroked down Harry’s belly to find Harry’s own erection, which was always awake before he was.

Harry moaned, jerking into the other man’s fist, pushing back against Severus’ cock. Harry held out a hand to summon a palm full of lubricant before reaching behind to smooth it over the other man’s erection. Severus grunted as though surprised and then moaned his appreciation. “I’m going to have to work on learning that,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. Harry laughed as he guided the man in the right direction. Severus gathered Harry’s knee, pulling it upward as he pushed forward, penetrating Harry with relative ease.

Harry’s breath hitched at the initial pain. When at last he was fully seated, he released Harry’s leg in favour of pulling the man tight against him. He kissed Harry’s neck, his jaw, his ears. Harry breathed to adjust and then twisted to receive an awkward but wholly satisfying sleep-tainted kiss.

Their movements were small and unrushed. Neither man was keen to speed toward the inevitable end. Severus snaked an arm under Harry in an effort to maintain the close embrace, while his other hand stroked Harry languidly. Harry came with Severus’ name on his lips. Severus’ end came moments later, his breath clouding against Harry’s shoulder.

Severus moved aside to allow Harry to roll onto his back, before kissing the other man properly. Although he was loath to admit it, this was his way of ensuring that there would in fact be a next time. He counted on Harry to force the issue. As he broke free of the kiss, he held his mouth against Harry’s and said, “I wish things were different.” The words were a soft as a prayer.

Breakfast was a relatively sober affair, consisting of toast and tea and little by way of conversation. Soon both men were packed and the chalet prepared for several months of emptiness. In spite of their silent wishes, time flew by and the end had come at last.

“This summer,” Harry said, meeting Severus’ eyes.

Severus nodded, knowing that he’d already begun counting the days. “Good luck. You’ll let me know how things turn out.”

Harry smiled. “Whether you like it or not,” he joked.

And with one last lingering kiss, both men parted to greet their separate realities.


	6. Nudged

London was miserable and cold when Harry arrived at his flat in Diagon Alley. The weather complimented his bleak mood. He’d anticipated the usual feeling of gloom when he returned from the chalet, but he’d not quite expected the crushing feeling like a tight belt around his chest, that had grown increasingly tighter since leaving bed this morning. His thoughts alternated between plotting tomorrow’s discussion with Ginny, and strategising his next move regarding Severus. Summer was a lifetime away and Severus’ whispered admission that still tingled against Harry’s lips fed his determination not to let this go.

He found the door unlocked and proceeded cautiously inside, wand drawn. His stomach dropped suddenly at the sight of Ginny, who stood to greet him. After a moment of terror, he mustered up enough voice to say, “Hey. I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” He pocketed his wand and shrugged out of his overcoat.

Ginny looked at him warily, her face uncharacteristically pale beneath the spattering of freckles.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“We need to talk,” she said quietly.

That was his line, he thought. Delivered in much the same grave tone of voice he’d thought to use. He blinked as a cautious sort of relief crept through him. It could be a mutual decision. She was going to leave him. “I wanted to talk to you, too,” he said carefully. No hard feelings. Just a logical end.

She looked at him fearfully. “I’ll make some tea,” she said quickly before rushing into the kitchen. Harry followed, seating himself at the breakfast bar. His heart pounded in his chest, pumping him full of renewed optimism. Was it possible that it would be so easy? He dared to hope. He watched her prepare the mugs, and and smiled when she set one in front of him. His hands curled around its warmth. For a moment, the silence was tense. Harry decided to ease it by going first.

“Ginny. I don’t know how to say this –“

“Harry, I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

Harry’s mouth hung open mid-sentence. “Sorry?” he said, sure he hadn’t heard correctly. His blood ran cold and his stomach leapt up to lodge itself in his throat.

“About six weeks,” she said quietly, studying his reaction.

The world fell out from under him. This couldn’t happen. Not now. He’d finally made a decision! Shock and anger waged war within him. “How?” he croaked. “I thought you were taking something?”

“I may have forgotten,” she said, her face going red from her admission.

“Forgotten?” Harry exclaimed in disbelief. “For fuck’s sake, Ginny!”

Her expression went from wary to angry in an instant. “I’m under a lot of pressure, you know!” she shouted back, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t always remember. I didn’t think I’d get pregnant!”

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that his freedom, just a conversation away, had now escaped him completely. She didn’t think she’d get pregnant? “Are you fucking joking? You’re a Weasley. You’re like the most fertile people on the planet!” Some reasonable part of him knew he was not taking this news as he should. That part of him watched anxiously from between parted fingers in the corner of his mind. “How could you do this?”

“Well I didn’t exactly do it on my own, you know!” she shouted indignantly. 

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pausing to grab a handful before beginning to pace. “No,” he cried at no one in particular. “God, Gin, you can’t do this!” he said desperately.

“Seriously?” Ginny shouted. “I don’t know what your problem is. I’m the one who has to change her _entire life_. My career. I have to give up flying, Harry. I-I can’t even drink coffee!” Tears fell over the angry red of her cheeks.

Harry was unmoved by them, and seized by an irrational anger that he directed at the only person in the room. “Coffee?” he snorted incredulously. “Fucking hell.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Is it even mine?” he asked viciously.

The question was ill-advised and followed by a mortal silence.

“Take that back,” Ginny said dangerously, pulling her wand.

“Or what? You’ll hex me?” Harry goaded. “Fucking do it!”

The two stood staring at each other, breathing raggedly and simmering in respective outrage. Ginny was the first to crack a smile, her lips twisting at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Harry broke just after, laughing at his own foolishness. It was the desperate sort of laugh of one grasping for control of chaos.

“Is it yours?” Ginny mocked in disbelief.

Harry rubbed his scar. “Bit desperate, eh?” He gave her a sheepish smile before walking around the counter and pulling her into his arms. He buried his nose in her hair. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder. “We could... do something about it,” she said quietly.

Something. But not that. “We’ll work it out,” he said, choking on his own words and closing his eyes against a stinging sensation. After a moment, he laid a kiss on her cheek. “A new adventure, right?” he said, trying to muster up some semblance of optimism and falling miserably flat.

Ginny let out a great sob against his chest. Harry tightened his embrace and let her cry for the both of them. He felt dazed and flooded with a cold, fatalistic resignation. He stroked her back, reassuring her that it would be all right. They would be fine.

At length, Ginny sniffed wetly and pulled back. Her eyes were red and puffy. He kissed her forehead. “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, looking at him warily.

Harry shook his head. “It’ll keep,” he croaked, trying to give her a reassuring smile. The effort made his face ache.

“You were going to leave me, weren’t you?” Her expression was miserable, but not accusatory.

Harry sighed. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.

She gave him a doubtful look before taking his hand to lead him back to their tea. “You’re a terrible liar, Potter,” she said, lifting her cup to her lips.

Harry snorted. “I happen to be a very good liar,” he informed her indignantly. He added a smile too weak to reach his eyes. He took a deep breath and opted for the truth. Part of the truth. “Something happened over the holiday.”

Ginny’s gaze hardened. “What?” she said coldly.

Harry bit at the inside of his mouth. This conversation could go badly if he wasn’t careful. Had he overestimated her openness? It had never been tested. Maybe her rules didn’t apply to him. The thought annoyed him. “There was this bloke,” he said cautiously.

Ginny’s eyes widened with surprise. An instant later he saw a glint of naughty excitement that he associated with all of Ginny’s darker fantasies. “A bloke?” she said on an astonished breath.

Harry nodded to confirm her bigger question. She gave a delighted laugh and Harry released a relieved breath. “I was a little pissed,” he said, which was initially true.

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed. “Wait... you’re not going to go all queer on me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not likely,” he said. He didn’t think of himself as queer. Or straight. He was simply sexual... generally speaking.

“So, you didn’t like it?” Her disappointment was slightly puzzling.

“It was...” Enlightening. Mindblowing. Paradigm shifting. “All right,” he answered lamely. “Painful,” he elaborated.

She grinned excitedly. “So you... all the way? Bloody hell,” she said again.

Harry laughed.

“Come on, Potter. If you’re going to cheat on me at least have the decency to give me the gory details.” She sipped her tea and looked at him expectantly.

Harry was in the process of editing the chain of events. “Well, I had a pretty bad fall skiing. And this bloke was some sort of a healer. He sorted me out.” He knew that wasn’t likely to satisfy her curiosity, but it was a good start.

She gave him a wicked grin. “And?”

“I met up with him on New Year’s. And then... went home with him?” Harry gave a shy shrug.

“What was he like?”

A picture of Severus popped into his head and his heart gave a sad lurch. “Tall. Longish dark hair. Slim. Older. He looks, dunno 40-ish. Big nose.” He smiled.

Ginny held up a hand and began to giggle. “Right,” she laughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Now I’m picturing you getting buggered by Snape.”

Harry laughed along. He was picturing the same thing. “I’m not yet twisted enough to get into necrophilia,” he said dryly. “But now I think about it, there was some resemblance. Minus the grease and general loathing.”

Ginny poked him. “Always knew you had a thing for him,” she teased.

Harry grunted humourlessly. The only thing laughable about her statement was the tense.

“And so, you and this Professor Snape lookalike...”

Harry rolled his eyes heavenward. “God, Gin,” he laughed. “We went back to his and well, did it.”

“Did you suck him off?” she asked, biting her lip.

Harry nodded, lips curling in to a pleased smile. He knew about her fantasies in that regards and felt pleased to share his excitement with her. She taught him everything he knew, after all.

“And you told him you were straight?” 

“Yeah. He was pretty surprised I intended to tell you about the whole affair. I had to explain you’re a pervert.” He grinned and knocked his knee against hers playfully.

“You have to show me,” she said excitedly.

Harry’s mouth dropped open in panic. “What?”

“Let me watch the memory,” she pleaded.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said firmly for good measure.

She pouted at him. “Why?”

“Not this time. If it ever happens again, I promise you can see.” As it now wasn’t very likely, it was a fairly empty promise.

She raised an eyebrow. “Planning to make it a habit?”

Harry sighed. “No,” he admitted and then became indignant. “You’re one to talk, anyway,” he said. “Care to show me what you and Gwynn get up to on tour?”

Ginny pressed her lips together, recognising the source of many arguments. “Fair enough,” she said at last. “But if there is a next time, I want to be there.”

Harry gave her a doubtful look. “Yeah, because threesomes work out so well for us,” he said dryly.

Her eyes glimmered as bright as a child’s on Christmas. “I’ll just watch,” she promised.

“That should go over well,” Harry said with a dry laugh. “Oi mate, would you mind bending me over a table while my pregnant wife looks on?” 

Ginny’s face fell. “I’m going to be fat,” she said, suddenly miserable.

Harry kicked himself for being insensitive. “You’ll be beautiful,” he told her. “And besides, it won’t likely happen again anyway. We’re going to have a family, Gin. We have to be more... careful.” He stroked her hair and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “What about you? Think you can give up your lesbian ways?” He smiled at her teasingly.

She narrowed her eyes and smiled wickedly. “There’s always Polyjuice.”

Harry gave her a dark look, unwilling to follow that train of thought. “You’re a piece of work Ms Weasley,” he said fondly.

“That’s why you love me, Mr Potter,” she laughed. Harry supposed she was right about that.

-o-o-

At the sight of the Queen’s head on the letter, Severus’ heart beat a little faster. He closed his post box and, post in hand, walked the block and a half to his office. He greeted his shop assistant, who was busy setting up the till for the day’s business. A look at his appointment book informed him that he had the next hour free before Mrs Sumner came in for her weekly adjustment. “I’ll just be in the garden,” he told the dark-haired girl, who was studded with various bits of metal. She nodded, her lips moving as she kept count.

The small garden behind the shop was filled with three small greenhouses that flourished in the near ever-present sunlight. The air was brisk and cold on the late January morning, but there had been no snow lately.

Severus huddled in his black overcoat, his fingerless gloves providing little protection against the cold. He took out a penknife to carefully open what he was sure to be a sentiment-riddled letter from his old friend, turned lover. Admittedly, he had been anxiously awaiting this letter, curious to know how things had gone with the break up, and slightly concerned over the potential fallout. It was only natural for him to be worried, he reasoned. He had grown to care for the other man out of simple bad habit. He’d been doing it for more years than he cared to remember.

His own homecoming had been rather uneventful. The gaggle of women, or the Coven, as he affectionately named them, seemed to think he’d had some secret love affair. Despite that Severus had displayed no outward signs of change and had remained resolutely mute in regards to his holidays. He regretted his moment of indiscretion when he’d described a meeting with an old friend as being ‘interesting’. On the bright side, they’d suspended their incessant efforts at matchmaking for the time being.

Severus’ lips curled fondly at the sight of the man’s tight scrawling handwriting.

_Dear you,_

_I remember when I came to you after the war, without any idea of what I should do next. You gave me a piece of advice that I’ve since adopted as my own personal philosophy on life. You told me that if I simply carried on going through the motions that fate would eventually nudge me on the right path._

_Ginny was there when I got home. She said that we needed to talk in much the same tone I had planned to use on her. For a few blissful moments, I believed that all my problems had worked themselves out. If she dumped me, I would be absolutely blameless. The Weasleys couldn’t fault me. Ron couldn’t hate me. It would be a mutual decision based on good sense._

_And then fate stepped in to nudge me properly._

_She’s pregnant._

Severus blinked. The letter went on, but Severus’ eyes were caught on those two words. He tried to suppress the feeling of disappointment that invaded him, speaking of expectations he’d refused to acknowledge. The feeling grew larger and became an inexplicable feeling of loss. Loss of what? Some part of him that had known better than to hope sneered at him from the corner of his conscience. Severus tried to will his eyes onward. He caught flashes of “I’m sorry” and “don’t know what to do” but found he couldn’t string the words together into anything coherent.

Severus let the letter fall to the ground and, in a fit of bitterness, set it on fire. It changed nothing, he told himself firmly. It had only ever been sex, after all. He’d made that clear. And thank the gods for small favours, anyway. Had the wretched man succeeded in ending his relationship, he’d have only endangered the peaceful existence Severus had created for himself. 

Severus stowed away his wand and hugged himself against the cold. He watched the parchment burn to ash. He silently cursed the stupid brat for making him think he was anything but supremely satisfied with his lot.

-o-o-

As Harry exited the Flooport in Denver, Colorado, he spared a thought to feel thankful that Severus agreed to travel at all. The hassle surrounding identity checks and the anti-terrorist absurdity was enough to drive any good Wizard to Dark Magic. Harry had never been so grateful for his celebrity, although he had to admit to being mildly surprised and slightly embarrassed that it extended across the pond. 

What brought him to Denver, the man had asked. “Paranoia,” he might have responded. “Heartache,” would have been equally appropriate. “Abject fear” would also have worked. “A quick social call,” he answered, giving his most winning smile. “I’m getting married in two days,” he added. 

“Last night of freedom, huh?” The man gave him a smile and a knowing wink that made Harry’s flesh crawl. “Just keep it clean, son,” the man said, returning his wand.

Harry made his way to the information desk to get the Apparation coordinates for Boulder. A few seconds later, he found himself in a small alley that led onto a cobbled street, teeming with Muggles. At least, Harry thought they were Muggles. They didn’t have that eccentric look of Wizards and Witches. But maybe Americans were just different.

Harry looked up and down the street, going through what he knew about Severus’ life. He owned a New Age shop-slash-Naturopathy clinic. He had a post box, so at worse, Harry could stake out the post office. There was bound to be a telephone book somewhere, although he wasn’t sure if Severus would have a telephone. Of course, the man was a master spy, and not having a telephone might bring uninvited attention. Harry knew Severus had a flat above his shop.

He walked a bit, surveying the main street carefully for any signs that would hint at something New Age-ish. He stopped in front of a place called Herbs and Arts. It sounded promising. A small bell chimed as he entered the sweet fog of incense that reminded him of Trelawney. The woman who greeted him was middle-aged and round, with long ,greying hair and a flowing tunic that looked like a diaphanous tent.

“Good morning,” Harry greeted. He looked around and decided that the shop was far too decorated to be Severus’. “You wouldn’t happen to have a telephone book I could borrow?” he asked.

“You’re English,” the woman said with a delighted smile.

Harry grinned back at her. “Yeah,” he said. He watched as she pulled a ridiculously thick book from under the counter. “Cheers,” he said. He opened the book to the esses and searched for “Snape,” before realising his error. He flipped back to the P’s and looked through the twenty or so Princes before realising that the man he was looking for wasn’t in there. He turned to the yellow page section of the book and searched for Naturopaths. The woman watched him from a polite distance.

When it was clear that his search was fruitless, he closed the book with a heavy thud. He gave the woman a small smile of thanks.

“Anything I can help with?” she asked cheerfully.

It was worth a shot. Harry remembered Severus saying something about the group of women he was acquainted with. And the shop owner might have some idea about her competition. “I’m looking for a friend who may have an office or shop around here. Hadrian Prince,” Harry said.

A flicker of recognition or maybe confirmed suspicion flashed through the older woman’s eyes. Harry felt certain she knew Severus. He couldn’t say if the woman particularly cared for him or not.

“And your friend didn’t leave an address?” she asked carefully.

Harry shook his head. “I only have a post box for him,” he said regretfully. “He doesn’t know I’m coming.” His hand slid into his pocket to finger his wand. He wasn’t above getting the information by magical means, but he didn’t like to think of the consequences that might have. He had no jurisdiction here and he wasn’t sure how carefully wand use was monitored. Best not, he thought, sliding his hand out of his pocket.

“Thank you for your help,” he said, stepping away from the counter, pausing to finger a piece of rose quartz.

“If you were his friend, you’d know Hadrian doesn’t like surprises,” the woman said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Harry turned to her and grinned. “I know,” he said. “But sometimes it’s the only way to get his attention.”

The woman was trying to make her mind up. “I’m Mary,” she offered.

“Harry,” he responded. He belatedly wondered if he should have used a pseudonym, but it was too late.

“I thought you might be,” she said with a warm smile.

Harry blinked and Mary laughed at his dumbfounded expression. “We’ve heard about you.”

“We?”

“The book club,” she explained.

“Book club,” Harry said, puzzled. He didn’t remember hearing anything about a book club.

“Well, we’re more of a drinking club, but we do some reading.” She gave a big and hearty laugh that Harry couldn’t help but smile at. It was the sort of laugh that would infect anyone within earshot.

“I’m not certain I want to know what you’ve heard,” he said sheepishly.

Mary shook her head to dismiss his worries. “Precious little, darling. Getting information out of your friend is like getting milk out of a crystal.” She gave a shout of laughter at her own joke. Harry laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” Harry said sympathetically. “I know all about that.”

“You were his student?” Mary asked, eyeing him for confirmation.

Harry nodded. “Ages ago,” he said.

“He mentioned that he met with you during his vacation,” she said. Harry got the impression that the woman was eager to find out any small bit of information she could. Harry was equally determined not to give anything at all, but he could sympathise with her attempt. He was rather eager to know what the people in this new life thought about Severus.

“We don’t see each other often,” Harry said. He fought off the swell of self-pity that threatened to flood in every time he thought of their time together. And his present situation. “I really need to see him,” he insisted.

“I guess you do, sweetheart,” she said and then tightened her lips. “But I’m very fond of Hadrian and while I don’t know a lot about the man’s life before he landed here, I know enough to know that he doesn’t want to be found. So you understand my dilemma.” She gazed at him steadily.

Harry offered a helpless expression, summoning every ounce of the desperation he felt to infuse it in his plea for help. “He’s a private man,” Harry began. “I am the only person he keeps in touch with. I won’t tell you he’ll be pleased to see me. I imagine he’ll be quite irritated, actually. But I have to see him. I’ve come all this way,” he finished. He gave her a pleading look.

Mary looked at him indecisively. “All right. Here’s what I’ll do. See the coffee shop across the road? You’ll go there and wait. I’ll give him a call. If he wants to see you, he’ll show up. If he doesn’t... I can’t help you. Does that work?”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, although a lingering doubt remained. What if Severus didn’t show? He supposed it would be an answer one way or another. “Thank you,” he said with a smile. He turned to go to his designated place in purgatory.

“Harry?”

He twisted around to see her, eyebrows raised. 

“When he came back from vacation with you... None of us had ever seen the man happy before. A few weeks later he was as low as he’d ever been. I have an inkling that you’re the cause of both.”

Harry lowered his eyes. He hadn’t realised that he could be made to feel even worse than he did.

“Are you here to make things right?” she asked with a severe look that reminded Harry a bit of the one Mrs Weasley used to reserve for the Twins.

Harry took a deep breath. “As right as they can be,” he murmured miserably. He didn’t wait for a response before pushing through the door, feeling for all the world like he’d just been stunned. The significance of the meddling woman’s words had hit him solidly in the gut. He’d spent months mired in self-pity, cursing his bitter fate and his utter stupidity for not having ended his relationship years ago when things started to go badly. When he hadn’t heard back from Severus, he’d understood that the older man would have been angry at Harry for fucking up so badly. He thought Severus might even be disappointed that the summer wouldn’t quite bring the holiday they had planned. He never believed that Severus would have an emotional reaction to the news. 

Perhaps the woman was just misreading him. Severus was broody by nature.

Harry ordered a tea and then sat in the corner to wait. This was not precisely how he’d planned this meeting would go. In his mind, he found the man easily, as though by instinct. He made an appointment to see him professionally and then surprised him. He imagined Severus would be too taken aback to be immediately angry. And in that lull, Harry would do what he could to make amends. Ask why the man hadn’t responded to his letter. Try and explain that while everything had changed, nothing had changed fundamentally. Harry still needed this contact. Somewhere along the line, the mission had become muddled and Severus had become Harry’s bridge. Bridge to what, Harry didn’t know. But he counted on the man, and needed him in his life.

Selfish, he realised, but desperately true.

After an hour, Harry began to worry. He looked across the road to the shop and wondered if Mary had managed to reach Severus. And if she had... he might have an appointment, Harry thought to himself. A booking. Or maybe he really didn’t want to see Harry. Maybe he was disgusted with the whole situation... or hurt. The last thought made Harry feel slightly nauseated.

The cafe began filling with people on their lunch break. Harry sat awkwardly cradling a cold half-filled mug of crap tea, staring into it as though it might reveal all the answers he sought. He’d give the man another half hour, he decided. Then he’d leave word with the woman over the road and go back to Britain. To his future. For better or for worse.

He looked up as the chair across from him slid backward. The man gave him a thunderous look, but Harry was too relieved to pay much mind. “Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled, putting his head in his hand and remembering how to breathe like a normal person again. When he finally looked back up, the man’s expression hadn’t changed.

“Hi,” he said with an awkward smile. Severus raised an expectant eyebrow. “Sorry?” he offered.

“Is that what you came here to tell me?” Severus hissed.

“You didn’t answer my letter,” Harry explained. “I was worried.”

Severus raised his eyes to the ceiling, as though appealing to a higher power for strength. “Was that the first time your letters went unanswered?” That voice that Harry had grown to love was now as cold and heartless as he remembered from his school years.

“No,” he admitted. He wrinkled his nose. 

Severus nodded. “No,” he echoed. “And the last time I failed to answer your letters immediately, did you fly across the globe to ask why?”

“No,” Harry sighed.

“No.”

“Sev—“ Harry was stopped by a death glare. He pressed his lips together. “Could we go someplace else?” he asked.

Severus seemed to weigh his options before standing and stalking out the cafe. Harry hurried to catch up and found Severus waiting for him outside. Harry’s eyes scanned the shop in front. He thought he could just make out Mary, watching them from her shop counter.

“That’s some guard dog you have there,” Harry said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. He’d known Severus wouldn’t be thrilled to see him. Still, he’d hoped.

“What part of keeping a low profile do you not understand?” Severus growled.

“She knew you anyway. I don’t see the harm – you have a bloody shop!” Harry pointed out as he struggled to keep up with Severus’ long stride.

“And now the bloody lot of them are on their phones, imparting to one another the latest bit of gossip. I’ve worked years to suppress their curiosity and now – “ His face suddenly went from irritated to irate. “You’re not even wearing a glamour?”

Severus suddenly veered down a very narrow alley at the end of which was a little shop with the smallest of signs bolted to the wall. It said, "Prince, Naturopath and Herbalist." Severus flung open the door and waved Harry inside.

The shop was sparsely decorated, but cosy. Rows and rows of mixed, dried herbs lined the walls. Small phials of tinctures and essences stood on sturdy wooden book shelves. The room was narrow, but long, stretching back to two doors at the end. From behind the counter a woman, a bit younger than Harry, peered curiously at him from over a till. She looked from one man to the other and clicked the metal ball in her tongue against her teeth.

“Theda, I need you to ring Mr Gentry and reschedule our appointment. Susan will be by this afternoon to drop off the CDs. Pay her from the till, but don’t forget the receipt.” He frowned as the girl’s attention remained steadfastly trained on Harry. Harry offered an awkward smile.

She didn’t smile back. She shifted her gaze instead toward Severus and lifted her brows expectantly. The man gave an exasperated sigh. “Theda-Harry. I’ll be back down to close,” he said abruptly before walking the length of the room toward the doors at the end. He opened the door on the right, which led to a stairwell.

“Pleased to meet you,” Harry said as he followed the man.

“Have a good day,” the girl said with an ironic smile.

“Cheers,” Harry muttered under his breath and then brushed past Severus, successfully not touching him any more than was strictly necessary. Severus waved Harry up the stairs, and then pushed past him to unlock another door, beyond which was a relatively spacious and Spartan studio flat. It was sparsely furnished with old but sturdy-looking furniture. A double bed was tucked in a corner clad in Slytherin green. Books lined the walls and were stacked on virtually every level surface of the flat. Three windows stretched along the front and looked out on the alley they’d just left, offering little by way of light.

Severus rounded on him as Harry shut the door. He leant back against it as the man treated him with a glare, the likes of which he hadn’t seen in years. It wasn’t the expression of an accommodating host. Harry gave an irritable sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Severus. I’m not here to ruin your life,” he said angrily. “So you can stop looking at me like that. If you’d have told me where you lived in the first place, I’d have come straight here.”

“You should have told me you were coming,” Severus shouted back at him.

“Why? So you could tell me not to?” Harry argued.

Severus gave an unpleasant smile. “No. You wouldn’t want to take into consideration my feelings on the subject.”

Harry deflated under the realisation that Severus had feelings on the subject. More than he’d led Harry to believe. “There wasn’t time,” he explained. “I waited for months to hear from you.”

“I’ve been busy,” Severus explained slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you find this hard to believe, Potter, but the world does not revolve around you.”

“Don’t,” Harry said quietly.

“Don’t what?” Severus snapped.

“Don’t do that. What you’re doing. If you’re pissed off at me, I can accept that, but don’t pretend I don’t fucking matter.”

Severus narrowed his eyes and sneered. Harry braced himself for something hurtful. “You don’t fucking matter,” Severus said. “Did you really believe that two days of-“

“I’m sorry,” Harry said firmly. “You know I didn’t plan for things to turn out this way.”

Severus pressed his lips together and then gave a disgusted snort. “Why do you think I care?”

“Because you’re trying very hard to convince me you don’t,” Harry pointed out. He stepped forward away from the door. “You know this wasn’t how I wanted things to be.”

“Did you ever hear of a thing called birth control?” Severus spat. Harry could see his jaw clench under the pale skin.

Harry blinked. “Did you even read my letter?”

Severus averted his gaze. “I read enough,” he said evasively.

Harry gave a hopeless laugh and rubbed his forehead. “God, you’re a prat,” he sighed and shook his head. He eyed an old sofa against the far wall and decided to invite himself in. “She forgot to take it,” he explained. He looked over. Severus had his head bent forward, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sit with me, Severus. Please.”

Severus met his pleading gaze, looking for all the world like he wanted to refuse, but couldn’t work out how. A moment later he stalked forward and sank next to Harry with a deep sigh. “The part that irritates me most is that I have neither right nor reason to be irritated with you,” he admitted dully.

“If it’s any consolation, I feel as though Christmas has been definitively cancelled,” Harry offered, letting his legs relax open to press against Severus’. “I’m supposed to be happy about this, right?”

“Coming here will do nothing to help that,” Severus muttered in a low, weary voice. It was as though he didn’t have any energy left to be angry. Harry took a moment to survey the man, noting the dark shadows under his eyes and the deep frown lines around his mouth. He looked as miserable as Harry felt.

Harry felt sick to think that he was the cause of the change in the man. “I can’t lose you, Severus,” Harry said. It wasn’t desperation that drove him to those words. It was a simple matter of fact. He couldn’t continue to do what had to be done if it meant losing the only person in the world who understood how badly it wrecked him. It was a small thing, but just knowing Severus was out there made the whole idea of his existence slightly easier to bear.

Severus rolled his head along the back of the sofa to look at him. The intensity of his gaze was gone, replaced by an uncharacteristic dullness that made Harry’s heart go cold. His stomach swirled with fear at all the possible responses to his admission. When nothing was forthcoming, he offered a half smile and said wryly, “I had the best sex of my life, Severus. Please don’t make me regret it.”

Severus snorted and looked away.

“If it means you’re going to hate me now, it wasn’t worth it,” Harry continued. “I need you,” Harry said, his voice fading as his throat closed.

“My life was peaceful. And you came along and showed me how empty that peace was,” Severus said in a flat voice. “You ruin me, Harry.”

Harry looked at the man dumbly. Pain shot through his chest, stifling any response he could give. “I’m sorry,” he breathed uselessly. What else could he say? He would change it all in a second if he could, but this was something he couldn’t run away from.

“Don’t be,” Severus sighed. “I take full responsibility for my own foolishness.”

Harry couldn’t say what hurt worse: that he had inadvertently ruined the man’s life, or that Severus considered it foolish to care for Harry at all. Harry let his head sink backward and covered his face with his hands. “This is so fucked up,” he complained aloud.

Severus grunted in agreement. “It always has been between you and me,” Severus said with dark amusement. “There’s something to be said for consistency.” He reached over and patted Harry’s leg, his hand coming to rest there. After a moment, Harry’s own hand covered it, trapping it.

“When is she due?” Severus asked quietly.

“August,” Harry answered.

“And the wedding.” 

Harry swallowed. “Saturday,” he answered, despair coming up to strangle him again.

Severus looked over in surprise. “Cutting things a bit short, aren’t you?

Harry shrugged. “I had to see you.” He squeezed Severus’ hand and then brought it to his lips, inhaling sharply. “I’m selfish, Severus. I know you prefer I just disappear, but I... Just can’t.” He couldn’t let go and he couldn’t quite explain why. 

Severus brought their joint hands to his own lips. “I don’t,” he said. Harry thought it sounded like he really wished he did. “But what I prefer isn’t possible. It was foolish to pretend otherwise.”

Harry leant over to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. “I have something I have to do for the next twenty years or so,” he said. “But after that, we’re running away.” He tried for a laugh, but it choked out of him like a dry sob.

Severus snorted. “You presume I’ll be available,” he pointed out, doing a good impression of his normal wry voice, but without the humour to back it up.

Harry grunted. “A man can hope,” he said. “Until then, you’ll just have to put up with my inane newsletters. And I’ll content myself with your terse replies.” That had to be enough, he knew, although part of him would always ache for more. Part of him would always wonder what would happen if...

“I’d have come here anyway,” Harry admitted after a moment of silence. “I wouldn’t have been able to wait until summer.”

“I know,” Severus said, leaning his head over to rest on Harry’s. “I expected it.” 

Harry smiled. “Am I that predictable?”

“If there’s one thing I can count on, Mr Potter, is that you will invariably break all the rules,” Severus said in a tone that seamlessly mixed exasperation and fondness. “When are you leaving?”

“I have to go tomorrow morning. Ron has this whole ... thing ... planned.” The prospect exhausted him. He would have to pretend to be festive, pretend that his entire existence was not on the edge of crumbling. It made him want into curl into a ball and sleep through the next twenty years. He was supposed to be happy, and he couldn’t manage to feel anything but doomed.

“Hungry?” Severus asked, his hospitality kicking in belatedly.

Harry shook his head. “I feel sick,” he said. “And knackered.”

“You could sleep if you’d like.”

Harry laughed. “I’ve got twenty years to sleep.”

“Shall I show you around then?”

Given the man's erstwhile anger, the offer was surprising. Harry looked over with a puzzled smile. “All right.”

And so Severus did, but not before teaching Harry his much coveted cloaking spell which would allow Harry to go unnoticed and unrecognised through the streets of the city.

The tour of the studio was very brief, the only other room being the bathroom that could be magically modified to contain a giant bathtub to feed Severus’ hedonistic impulses. Severus’ small garden and green houses likewise took advantage of wizarding space and contained a mix of standard herbs and plants with magical plants hidden between. Severus told him that he had the honour of being the only person to have seen them. Harry grinned to be so privileged. His office and examination rooms were everything Harry had imagined them to be, complete with a table not unlike the one he’d transfigured in the chalet.

They went back to the shop to check on Theda, who was busy showing a customer through the different herbal remedies available to treat arthritis. Contrary to the sullen and sarcastic demeanour with which she’d greeted Harry, the girl spoke with authority and professionalism regarding the effects of the different ingredients. Severus surveyed the transaction with a satisfied look.

It was growing late in the afternoon, when Severus finally insisted that Harry eat something. Harry’s stomach still wasn’t quite keen on the idea of food. He felt emotionally and physically wrecked and wasn’t certain that he had any energy left over to devote to digestion. Severus was adamant however, and began to direct him to a small pizzeria owned by one of “the Coven” as he called the book club to which he belonged. 

They were a group of professional women who, for the most part, all had businesses in the area. They were a collaborative group, each working with the other to promote their various trades. Most of Severus’ “patients” were through referrals from the other shop owners. Severus in turn sold their wares in his shop – crystals, CDs, even artwork. To call the group a book club seemed indeed to be a misnomer, as they scarcely discussed the books they were set to read. Instead, they met on Thursday evenings at the “Naked Moon” pizzeria and traded secrets, shared gossip and, above all, got pissed.

Harry listened as Severus went through the details of how he came to be established in the city with a detached sense of awe. He quickly came to realise that Hadrian had little to do with the man he knew. Harry’s mind boggled to think of Severus Snape in the middle of this group of Muggle women. It occurred to Harry that he’d been labouring under the delusion that Severus spent his life incognito. That Hadrian was a disguise Severus wore. As Severus spoke about his daily existence, it occurred to Harry that Severus Snape really was dead and resurrected only periodically and only at Harry’s insistence.

The realisation made Harry unspeakably sad, and he wondered, not exactly for the first time, if the mission given to him by Dumbledore was necessary at all. He understood now Severus’ admission that Harry “ruined” him. While Severus busied himself with constructing a new life, Harry was a constant reminder of all that Severus had worked to erase.

He was quiet as they made their way to a large corner booth at the back of the Pizzeria. Harry sat with his back to the room and let the cloaking spell fall on Severus’ instruction. “I hope you’re prepared,” Severus said with a smirk. “We’re about to do damage control.” He shot Harry a half-hearted reproving glare and took his seat across the table.

The girl who seated them, Julie, brought them water and menus. “Damage control?” Harry said once she’d scurried off again.

Severus nodded. “If I don’t introduce you, I will have to endure months of whisperings in regards to my mysterious past. I’ve worked hard to convince these women that there is nothing worth looking into. Your appearance will provide fodder for their overactive imaginations.”

Harry offered a contrite look. “Sorry. I really didn’t mean to complicate things,” he said.

Severus shrugged. “I’ll turn it to my advantage,” he said. 

Harry’s mind caught up with their discussions. It occurred to him that it was Thursday. “Wait, they’re all coming here? Tonight?” Panic blossomed in his chest. 

Severus smirked. A sadistic glint lit up his eyes. “Oh, they’ll be here,” he warned. He laughed at the look of horror on Harry’s face. “Don’t worry. Just follow my lead,” Severus said. He smiled at something over Harry’s shoulder and said, under his breath. “And it starts.”

Harry twisted around to see a woman coming toward them. He guessed she was somewhere in her late thirties. She had short blond hair and dressed in trousers and a man’s button down shirt. A tattoo curled up her neck from under her shirt. Some sort of abstract floral design.

“Hey. I didn’t expect you’d come tonight,” she said, shooting Harry a look of undisguised curiosity before leaning in to allow Severus to kiss her on the cheek. 

“If I’d have thought I could get away with secreting him away, I might have done it. But I have to live with you vultures,” Severus said, with a wry smile. “And the man has to eat.”

The woman grinned at him before turning to Harry. “Anna,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Harry.” Harry shook her hand and offered a small smile, eyes darting uncertainly toward Severus. He wasn’t going to manage this, he was sure. He’d screw something up. Why on earth had he thought coming here was a good idea? Severus’ eyes glittered in amusement at his panic.

Then he remembered. He was in love with this git.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” the woman said.

“You’re the second person who has told me that,” Harry said with a reproachful glare at Severus. “I wouldn’t listen to him, if I were you. He’s incredibly biased. Most people find me charming.” He smiled his award-winning smile, worthy of Witch Weekly.

Anna laughed. She had a large booming laugh that echoed in the mostly empty restaurant. It made Harry feel warm and slightly uncomfortable all at once. The effect was dizzying. 

“They’re exaggerating,” Severus drawled. “Honestly, Anna. Mr Evans’ ego is big enough without thinking I spend my time waxing lyrical about him.”

Mr Evans, Harry suspected, was him. That Severus would attribute his mothers’ name to him made Harry feel very strange indeed. He forced himself not to analyse the implications too much. Severus had taken his own mother’s maiden name, after all.

Anna grinned at the two of them. “What can I get you to eat?” she asked. 

Harry hadn’t even looked at the menu and when he went to do so, Severus stopped him. “Harry has a fondness for Spaghetti Bolognaise,” Severus said with a smirk that effectively liquefied Harry’s insides. Harry’s eyes widened. He felt a blush creep up from under his collar.

“For two?” Anna asked and Severus nodded. “And the house wine?”

“Naturally,” Severus answered with a smile that spoke of a shared understanding.

As the woman went away with a warning that she’d be back once the others arrived, Harry’s eyes narrowed. “If I’m going to pull this off, you’d better tell me what they think they know,” he said darkly.

Severus chuckled at the man’s apparent discomfort. “They know an abbreviated version of the truth,” Severus said. “You were my student. We didn’t get on when you were in school but have since made amends. You’re the only person with whom I maintain contact in Britain. We spent the holidays together.”

Harry nodded. “And do they know...”

Severus shook his head. “I refused to either confirm or deny their suspicions.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Right. So they know.” An inexplicable pleasure rushed through Harry at this knowledge. It was somehow liberating to know that someone suspected their secret, even if it was a group of strange women. It made what had happened more real, somehow. Less ethereal.

“I’ve explained that I left Britain to travel after the Headmaster of the school I taught at died suddenly. I had begun teaching at 21 years old and stopped when I was 30. Officially, I am 36 years old.”

Harry snorted at this and Severus glared. “Muggles age faster than wizards. If I'm to stay in this world for long I needed to start young.”

“All right,” Harry said. “So I take it you haven’t mentioned your friendship with my mum?”

Severus shook his head. “They know your parents died when you were quite young, and that you were sent off to boarding school when you were eleven. The year I began teaching botany.”

“Botany?”

“The science of plants,” Severus said with a bland look.

“I’d have thought chemistry,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He knew what botany was.

Severus shook his head. “Chemistry is too specific with a lot of theories that I don’t fully understand. Botany is easier for me to speak to. Not that I’ve ever had to give lectures, but it helps add credence to my career as an herbalist.”

Harry nodded. “Ok,” he said, committing the story to memory and hoping beyond hope that his tired and weary mind wouldn’t let him down. He supposed he should start calling the man Hadrian in his head. “Hadrian,” he said, just to try out the name.

Severus smiled. “They’ll do most of the talking,” he reassured him. 

Julie brought over the bottle of wine and poured a dram into Severus’ glass. Severus sniffed at it and then took a sip in his mouth before nodding. Harry’s glass was filled and then Severus’ own was topped up.

“Thank you, Julie,” Severus said, and the girl blushed and smiled back before scurrying away.

“I think she fancies you,” Harry observed.

Severus shrugged. “It’s the accent,” he said with a dismissive wave. “She’ll fancy you by the end of the evening.”

Harry looked at the man in front of him, acutely aware that he scarcely knew him. It was a startling epiphany.

“What?”

Harry shook his head. “You. You’re amazing,” he said, sounding like a moonstruck twit. “It’s a little weird to see you like this. In this context.” Harry dropped his eyes to his wine glass. “Around Muggles.”

Severus grunted. “It’s my penance for several years of dubious politics,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve learnt a lot over the last five years and have developed a healthy respect for this world.”

Harry cocked his head to the side and considered the man. “I think it’s more than that. You’re... integrated here. You’re a part of this world.” Harry wondered at the feeling of loss that filled him with this realisation. A renewed grief for his old Potions master. It was a selfish feeling, Harry knew. He should be happy to see the man had found his place in life, but he couldn’t help but feel a little envious of all these people that they should have the very thing Harry could never have again.

Severus grunted. “Sometimes I manage to believe that,” he said. “But I can never fully fit in here. I can never be completely honest.” He offered a little smile. “And that’s the role you play,” he said. “My bridge between the old and the new versions of myself.”

“Yeah. A painful reminder of everything you want to forget,” Harry said wryly. 

Severus shook his head. “Your role is to ground me. To make sure that I don’t get so lost in the role I play that I lose myself entirely. As irritating as it is to admit it, Albus was right. Without our friendship, I would never have been free to build this new identity.”

Harry gave a small, cheeky smile. “So...I suppose you need me, too.” He didn’t quite believe it, but was pleased if Severus thought it was so.

“A necessary evil,” Severus intoned.  
The young, infatuated waitress interrupted their banter. She distributed two plates and placed a large bowl of spaghetti bolognaise in the middle. She set out a smaller bowl of parmesan cheese and then smiled at the two of them. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked, not quite looking at Severus.

Harry shook his head. “Thank you. It looks lovely.” He waited until she left the table to glare at the man. “Spag-bol? Really? You’re not going to make this night easy for me, are you?” he teased.

Severus gave an innocent look. “What? I’m sure I once heard you say that it was your favourite meal.” 

“I think I prefer your recipe.” Harry offered a wicked grin before taking up the spaghetti tongs to serve first Severus and then himself. He topped his pasta with a generous layer of cheese. The smell had awakened his appetite and reminded him that he’d not eaten anything since the night before.

The two men ate in relative silence. Severus twirled his spaghetti in neat little nests around his fork, and Harry cut the pasta into manageable bites and sucked up the long bits. Severus made only a passing comment on his table manners, but seemed more entertained than disgusted by Harry’s lack of decorum. 

When the plates were cleared and the glasses refilled, Severus began filling him in on the women who were due to arrive any minute. There was Rebecca, a graduate student in literature at the university, who specialised in Medieval British Literature. Susan, who owned a local music store and who helped to promote musicians in the area. Theda, Severus’ strange assistant, was the daughter of Mary. Anna, the pizzeria owner, and her partner Shannon, who was an architect and responsible for the eclectic look of bohemian-meets-modern stylings of the restaurant. And then there was Mary, Severus’ first friend and former employer, a wiccan (which was some Muggle version of a witch). 

Harry listened to each brief introduction, not really hoping that he would get all the details straight. The important thing, he decided, was that he retained his and Severus’ back story. He resolved not to talk any more than necessary and to allow Severus to field any questions that may come his way. 

Anna was the first to join them, having retired her apron and set out several more glasses in preparation for the meeting. No sooner had she sat down than the tinkle of the bell at the door announced the arrival of Mary, who slid onto the bench next to Anna. Severus slid along to the end of the booth, to be closer to Harry. He gave Harry’s knee a small, reassuring pat.

“I see you two found each other okay,” Mary said with a warm smile.

Harry smiled back. “Yeah. Thanks for your help,” he said, eyes darting over to Severus. 

“Anytime sweetheart,” she said. “The poor man was searching through the phone book. Of all things,” she gave Severus a reproving look.

Severus heaved a long suffering sigh as though this was an old discussion that had been buried on more than one occasion. “If he’d told me he would be in town, I could have given him directions,” he said haughtily. 

“If you’d list your number like a normal person, you might have been pleasantly surprised,” she teased. Severus gave her a look that spoke volumes about what he thought of that idea. Mary laughed. “How long are you here for, Harry?” she asked.

“Just today,” he answered. Both women looked at him incredulously. “I was in Denver for a conference and thought while I was in the neighbourhood, I would try and see Hadrian,” he said, pleased with himself for remembering the man’s name.

“Hadrian tells us you’re a cop,” Anna said.

Harry glanced over for confirmation. “Not exactly a cop,” he said. “I head a small group of forensic investigators. We work with law enforcement all over Britain to help solve cases.”

“Harry has always had a weakness for mysteries,” Severus offered with a wry look.

Anna laughed. “Well I guess that explains your relationship,” she said with a grin. “Hadrian makes it a point to be mysterious,” she told Harry. 

“Oh, believe me. I know.” Harry had spent the better part of his adolescence trying to solve the various mysteries surrounding this man. He cast a fond look. Severus rolled his eyes.

“The mystery is in your heads,” Severus said into his wine glass. “I’m really an open book.”

Harry guffawed at that. “Written in code in invisible ink,” he added, nudging Severus with his elbow. “Open book, indeed.” He shook his head and the women sniggered at Severus’ expense.

Their merriment was interrupted by the arrival of Rebecca, a thin woman with long straight brown hair, dressed in baggy jeans and a thick oversized cardigan. She stowed a heavy looking rucksack at a neighbouring table. The look of surprise on her face when Harry was introduced told Harry that perhaps Severus had underestimated Mary’s capacity for discretion. 

“Harry, huh? We’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, flashing a secret smile at _Hadrian_. Harry turned his head to glare at the man. He wondered again exactly what these people had heard. Severus gave a resigned smile and shook his head.

“Hadrian was just telling us all how he’s transparent he is,” Anna filled her in. Rebecca snorted incredulously. Harry sniggered into his glass. As quickly as he drained it, it was filled again. What with the travel, the lack of sleep and the small bit of food in his stomach, he was beginning to feel a little giddy. He resolved to go more slowly.

Rebecca recounted her day trying to teach undergraduate composition courses. The way she spoke reminded Harry of Severus’ own laments about the idiocy of his students and their incapacity to learn anything at all. Severus made sympathetic noises as she spoke, adding that the best the woman could hope for is that twenty percent of what she was trying to teach might take root in their brains. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“So... what was he like as a teacher?” Rebecca asked Harry directly.

Harry looked over at the man and then smirked. “Let’s just say I didn’t appreciate his teaching methods until much later in life.” Severus met his eyes and gave a wicked smirk that set Harry’s heart to pounding. The look was not missed by the group of women.

“Is that right?” Anna said. 

Harry laughed breathlessly and took another drink to cover a damning blush.

“Would this have anything to do with the _interesting_ vacation?” Rebecca asked innocently.

“Interesting?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

Severus shook his head. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, the lot of you,” he admonished. “You latch onto little details and construct a whole fantasy world around them. I assure you, the reality is not nearly as sordid as you all make it out to be.”

Harry laughed incredulously before catching himself. He pursed his lips to suppress his grin when Severus shot him a severe look. “Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all.

“You’re no help,” Severus said with an amused smile. “I have told them that our vacation was quiet. That most of our time was spent trying to put you back together after your abominable attempt at skiing.”

“Abominable!” Harry said indignantly.

“But none of what you told us explains the use of the word ‘interesting,’ Hadrian. And if you won’t offer up a suitable explanation, then it is your own fault if we collectively fill in the blanks,” Rebecca teased.

Harry nodded. “She has a point, Hadrian,” he said. “The truth is, he enjoys the intrigue,” he told them conspiratorially. He yelped as a well-aimed finger poked him in his side.

“We like him, Hadrian,” Mary said with a grin. “He can stay.”

“Heavens forbid,” Severus said into his cup. His eyes met Harry’s and Harry swallowed to force down the sudden wave of sorrow. He was saved by the arrival of Shannon. Another shifting of seating positions was in order so that Shannon could sit next to Anna, whom she greeted with a warm kiss. The dark-skinned woman turned a shrewd gaze to Harry, looking him up and down like a puzzle. 

“So glad to finally meet you,” she said at last. Her full red lips stretched into a vibrant smile. Harry smiled back. “We’ve heard...”

“A lot about me? So I keep hearing,” Harry reached under the table to swat at Severus’ thigh. “Someone’s going to have to fill me in on what this git’s been saying about me.”

“Nothing bad,” Mary assured him.

“You were his student,” Anna told him.

Rebecca laughed. “Who drove him crazy."

“Quite the trouble maker,” Shannon added, eyes alight with mischief.

“All true,” Severus insisted. “The boy spent more time in detention and out.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Most of those detentions were given by you,” he pointed out. 

“For very good reasons,” Severus said.

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes. But you did have it in for me.”

Severus smiled. “Perhaps.”

“But you worked out your differences after you left school and became good friends,” Mary interjected as though reminding them.

“I’m interested to know how two people with so much professed animosity become good friends,” Rebecca said pointedly.

Severus’ expression was impassive, but Harry felt they were approaching delicate ground. He shrugged. “I had a rough patch after I left school,” he said. “We didn’t like each other very much, it’s true, but in his own way, he always looked out for me. I showed up on his doorstep and he gave me the kick in the arse that I needed.” He gave a half smile as the other man looked at him, clearly pleased with his explanation. “And now he’ll never be rid of me. No matter how far away he runs,” Harry laughed. 

“Such a burden,” Severus sighed dramatically. His hand came over to ruffle Harry’s already untidy hair.

“He protests too much, methinks,” Rebecca said, shooting Severus a sly grin.

“And so how do we go from wayward student/long-suffering teacher to interesting vacation companions?” Shannon said. The rest of the women giggled at her audacity.

Harry blushed spectacularly but met the woman’s eye. “Damnable persistence,” he answered in his best imitation of Severus’ drawl.

Severus laughed out loud before covering his face with his hand, shaking his head. “Enough wine for you, I think,” he reprimanded, pushing Harry gently on the shoulder. “Best to get you home before these harpies wheedle out all the gory details of my private life.”

His comment was met with complaints all around. Harry interjected. “He’s right though. I’m pretty knackered,” he said, yawning for effect. He’d enjoyed seeing this part of Severus, but he was looking forward to spending some time alone with the man before he had to go back to his own private life.

Severus slid out of the booth and fished some money from his wallet, laying it on the table. Harry followed his lead. “It was very nice to meet you all,” he said politely. He was pulled into a warm embrace by Mary and shook hands with everyone else. 

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, Severus led Harry out into the now dark early evening. Harry remembered to reactivate his glamour once they were outside.

“You did well,” Severus said.

“They’re nice ... Relentless,” he laughed.

Severus grunted, amused. “That, they are,” he admitted. “But you handled yourself well.”

Harry laughed. “Well, I am an Auror, _Hadrian_. We learn how to remain calm under pressure.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always been good at being evasive,” he teased.

Harry grinned. “Not with you,” he said. “You’ve always seen right through me.”

Severus nodded his agreement. It was rather pointless denying it. “We both have our talents,” he said, turning down the alley to where his shop was. He used his key to unlock the shop and ushered Harry inside, locking the door behind them. Harry followed his dark silhouette through to the door leading to his flat. When they were inside, Severus waved his wand to turn on the lights and then turned to take Harry’s coat, hanging it with his own in the coat closet.

Suddenly alone, Harry was at a loss for what to say to the man. Their earlier argument still hung in the air and all the light-hearted laughter of the evening had no place here. Somewhere in the room a ticking of a clock could be heard, counting down the seconds until Harry would have to go again. His eyes met Severus’, but the smile that came so easily before couldn’t be summoned now. 

Severus stepped forward to close the gap between them, his cold hands cupping Harry’s cheeks, tilting his head upward. Severus lips pressed against Harry’s forehead. Harry’s arms wrapped around the man’s neck, his lips brushing Severus’ neck. Severus returned the embrace, arms curled tight around him, pulling him close and holding him there. For a moment, Harry relished in the proximity, intent on staying in the here and now, and letting go of tomorrow and whatever came after. This was where he found his happiness. Right here. In the warmth of Severus’ body, in the heady smell that was fully Severus. The man’s thumb stroked Harry’s lower back in small firm strokes. This is a place Harry would revisit again and again in his memories. 

Severus shifted his head to kiss down Harry’s jaw and Harry leant into the contact. He knew he would have to stop this. He’d promised Ginny not to do it again. But at the moment, he needed this closeness. His entire body yearned for it. When Severus’ mouth closed over his bottom lip, month's worth of need expressed itself in a low moan vibrating in Harry’s throat. Harry met the kiss eagerly, his tongue dipping out, intent on capturing the taste of the man – wine and a hint of garlic, wet and warm. Severus’ hands returned to his face, holding Harry in place as the two men kissed with increasing urgency. Harry ran his hands over Severus’ chest, over his shoulders, arms, thrilling in the firmness – the masculinity of the man. Severus released him and Harry breathed raggedly, giddy with desire.

He blinked his eyes open to focus on the man standing in front of him, watching him intensely as he undid his shirt. Harry bit down on his bottom lip and took a deep breath. “We can’t,” he heard himself say in a despairing tone. Severus raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop his progress. "I promised her I wouldn’t—"

“Harry,” Severus said, cutting off whatever promise Harry had made. “Saturday, she has you for the rest of your life. Tonight, you’re mine.” Severus let his shirt drop behind him on the floor and moved forward to tug up Harry’s jumper. Harry met his eyes and nodded, raising his arms to allow himself to be stripped to the skin. “Mine,” Severus repeated, hands moving to excite the skin on Harry’s chest.

“Yours,” Harry confirmed pulling up Severus’ undershirt. He hadn’t given much by way of a fight, but he was little inclined to keep this particular promise. He reasoned that this was a fulfilment of a prior obligation and so his promise to Ginny didn’t really count. 

Any guilt over his faulty reasoning was swallowed up by a renewed rush of desire as Severus pressed his leg between Harry’s, targeting the very centre of Harry’s need. Harry’s skin sang out against the warm bare skin of Severus’ torso. “I have my own list,” Severus murmured into Harry’s ear causing Harry to shiver uncontrollably. He let out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah?” he whispered, running his tongue along Severus’ neck.

“Hm.” Severus had his wand in his hands. Harry heard the sound of a chain rattling as the cuffs flew into Severus’ waiting hands. “And if she finds out,” he said, running the cold chain along Harry’s skin. Harry chewed his bottom lip and raised his eyes. “You can tell her your hands were tied.” Severus smiled darkly, and pocketed his wand. He unbuckled the leather cuffs and pulled them apart with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry smiled, offering out his wrist, watching as the cuff tightened around it. Severus made short work of the other hand before taking the chain and leading Harry to the wooden pillar in the centre of the large room. Severus raised Harry’s hands, attaching the chain to a small metal hook high up on the pillar. Harry could just barely reach without going onto his toes. He pressed his forehead to the wood and breathed raggedly. 

Severus came up behind him and kissed his neck, hands reaching around to undo Harry’s jeans, fingers reaching down to stroke against the straining head of Harry’s cock. “I’ve spent hours picturing you like this,” Severus whispered into his skin. “I feared I’d never get the chance.” Severus hands dipped under the waistband of Harry’s pants and pushed both jeans and pants down to pool at Harry’s feet. Severus’ teeth grazed Harry’s arse cheek on the way up.

“God, Severus,” Harry breathed with a grin. 

Severus urged Harry to turn around. Harry’s arms crossed and stretched almost painfully above him. His erection bobbed heavily forward, eager for contact. Severus kept his distance, however, leaning in just enough to kiss Harry’s mouth briefly. He waited until Harry opened his eyes before summoning a cat o’ nine tails. 

“You know what this is,” Severus said. Harry nodded. “You’re ready?” Another nod. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Harry corrected.

“Yes, what?” Severus smiled, fingers stroking the long leather strips, pinching the knotted ends.

“Yes, please,” Harry laughed. “Sir... master... Severus. Yes.” 

Severus held the thing out flicking over Harry’s shoulder as gently as a caress, letting the long strips tickle his chest. Harry lifted his head, resting it against the pillar behind him. Another flick sent the strands slipping softly over Harry’s stomach, falling down to brush against his erection. Harry drew in a quick breath, eyes opening to meet Severus’. “Turn around,” Severus breathed. 

Harry complied, seeing the air before him shimmer with a reflection spell. Harry could see himself stretched up, arms straining against the cuffs, cock reaching out to kiss the pillar in front of him. His face was flushed with excitement, eyes glittering brightly in anticipation. He’d never felt so sexy before in his life.

His breath left him in a puff as the leather strips fell again, this time biting into the skin of his back before slipping down gently. Behind him, he could see Severus watching him. Another blow, the knots of the strips meeting sensitive skin, and then tickling as they gave into gravity. Again and again, Harry’s face contorted with pain, his lip held tightly between his teeth as his pleasure heightened. He could hear Severus’ breathing grow as ragged as his own, great gusts of breath preceding every slap of the strips.

Harry lost count of how many times the straps landed. His skin was on fire, and soon even the light caress of in between blows was sweet agony. Harry couldn’t make sense of the chorus of grunts and moans. He was no longer certain if they were coming from him or the man doling out his punishment. For there was no mistake. This was punishment. Penance for daring to infect Severus’ quiet life with his optimistic hope for more.

Severus suddenly strode forward to press against Harry from behind, bringing the cat o’nine around to graze against Harry’s chest, while Severus other hand brushed soothingly over Harry’s back and arse. Severus met Harry’s eyes in his reflection, teeth grazing over Harry’s ear. “You’re going to miss me,” the man breathed.

Harry swallowed. “I’m going to miss you,” he echoed, and he felt the words take root in his very soul.

Severus nipped at Harry’s jaw and pressed his trouser-clad hips against Harry’s arse. “Whenever you’re with her, you’ll remember me and know that this is where you belong.” 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, desperately. “Severus,” he pleaded. 

“Open your eyes,” Severus commanded, taking the handle of the whip and stroking it down Harry’s back. Harry complied, heart pounding in a combination of loss and lust. “You’ll come back to me, Harry,” Severus said.

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Please.” Harry’s arse jutted backwards to encourage the handle’s slow progress toward his arse. Severus continued to assault his raw skin with kisses before stopping. “I don’t suppose you brought lube,” he said, pressing his forehead into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry laughed breathily. “Sorry,” he said.

“Never mind,” Severus said before summoning his own. “It isn’t as pleasant but we’ll make do.” Harry saw his amused smirk in the mirror before hearing the cap pop open and the gel squirt noisily out. “Spread your legs,” Severus ordered and Harry struggled to obey. He was forced onto his toes to keep his arms from being overstretched. His efforts were rewarded with the feel of the smooth plastic handle nudging up against his opening, cold and wet with the lube. He held his breath as Severus began to work the thing inside, only remembering to breathe when Severus delivered a firm bite to his neck.

It had been so long since he felt this. After his discussion with Ginny, he’d told himself that it was best to give this up. Toys alone couldn’t possibly sate the desire for the real thing. As the real thing was now indefinitely out of reach, it was better to suppress the urge entirely.

The plastic handled filled him, stretched him, and he wondered how on earth he would give this up. Underneath the pleasure was the anticipation for what would surely come next. Warm, fleshy and huge. Harry moaned as Severus twisted and pushed, preparing him. The tassels fell to tickle the backs of his thighs. “Squeeze around it,” Severus instructed. “Don’t let it fall.”

Harry did as directed, taking the opportunity to close his legs and relax to the soles of his feet. His arms ached already, his back side still sang with the fading sting of the whip. A contradictory ache from his bollocks offered a bass note to the medley.

Severus slid in front of him, kissing him intensely. The man’s fingers pressed against the makeshift tail lodged in Harry’s arse. Harry whimpered desperately and thrust his hips forward to seek any possible contact. Severus brought his hand to squeeze tightly around the base of Harry’s cock. He felt the hard, impersonal touch of Severus’ wand and then the familiar magic of the constricting charm tighten around him. Harry gave a small maniacal laugh and breathed the word “evil” as he stretched forward for one more taste of that retreating mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you, Harry,” Severus warned in a low voice, rounding to position himself to do just that. Harry saw his reflected face flush with desire. His eyes glimmered with need as he met Severus’ gaze. “I’m going to come deep inside of you,” Severus continued, taking Harry in hand and stroking him teasingly. Harry’s eyes rolled up, his knees going momentarily weak, causing his arms to stretch painfully. “You will not be so lucky,” Severus said with a sadistic grin.

The other man began working the handle in and out again, stroking Harry in time until Harry felt certain he would implode from the pressure. After an excruciatingly long moment, Severus tugged the thing out, cleaning it quickly and then banishing it back to wherever it came from. Harry could hear the sound of Severus’ zip coming down. His feet were urged apart again and he resumed the precarious position on his toes.

Without warning, Severus thrust into him, gripping Harry’s hips to keep him from slamming into the pillar from the force. Severus’ expression was tight, whether with pleasure or anger, Harry couldn’t say. He drove himself in again and again. Harry’s arousal was momentarily abated by the pain ripping through him. He shouted out as Severus thrust mercilessly. When Severus began again to stroke Harry’s cock, Harry couldn’t decide whether to moan his appreciation or to cry at the cruelty of this particular torture. His pleasure mounted in his abdomen, growing impossibly tight with need for release. And there would be no release.

Severus’ breath came in tight grunts in time with his pounding. The rhythm grew more desperate and erratic until at last he slammed inside, arms closing around Harry’s body in a tight embrace as he rode out the waves of his orgasm shooting warm and wet inside Harry. The pain in Harry’s arms was nearly intolerable and stole his attention away from his own unsatisfied arousal.

Severus must have sensed this, or had enough experience with bondage to have a healthy understanding of human limitations, for he soon slipped out of Harry and eased the cuffs off the hook. Harry winced as his arms were released, his shoulders complaining at the change in position. He rolled them and flexed his fingers to allow blood back in. Come dripped down his thighs before Severus cleaned them both with a quick spell.

The other man was silent as he removed the cuffs from Harry’s wrist and let them drop to the floor in favour of massaging Harry’s hands and wrists. Harry took a moment to study the man’s face as he did so. Flushed and sated was a good look for Severus. The lines from his habitual sneer were still present, although his expression was relaxed. The man raised his eyes to meet Harry’s lingering gaze and the unnameable flicker there made Harry’s heart clench inexplicably. Harry couldn’t put words to what it communicated, but his heart recognised the sentiment and broke again at the sight of it. Regret. Reluctance to let go. Anticipation of loneliness to come.

Or perhaps Harry was just projecting.

“I love you, Severus,” he heard himself say. His eyes widened and his mouth shut tightly against any other stupid things that might try and leap out of it. Severus’ regard went hard. Anger flashed through it. “Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “What a stupid thing to say,” he reprimanded himself aloud, using his liberated right hand to cover his eyes, his forefinger stretching up to stroke his scar.

Severus heaved a sigh and then curled his hand around Harry’s head. “It’s your cock talking,” he said, squeezing the garrulous organ. Harry would have liked to say that his cock had nothing to do with it. That really, at this point, he didn’t care if he ever came. It was enough just to be with this man. To be near him. To hear that voice. Kiss those lips. To wrap himself in his warmth. That is what Harry needed.

Harry’s cock, however, didn’t quite agree and pulsed steadily in Severus’ grip, hijacking Harry’s entire body, making his breathing come faster, his heart beat more urgently.

“Tell me you want me,” Severus whispered, parting Harry’s lips with his own.

“I want you,” Harry echoed, the want becoming a beast in and of itself.

“Take me,” Severus breathed.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He launched himself forward, plundering the man’s mouth, pushing him toward the bed in the corner of the room. He paused when he got there to push Severus’ trousers and pants down before gently pushing him back to the bed, crawling up to follow. He kissed the man’s hairless torso, treating his nipples to a firm bite and relishing the man’s reaction. Harry pulled one long leg around to urge the man to turn over. He took his time, kissing over the smooth flesh of Severus’ arse before prying the cheeks open to address the puckered flesh at the centre.

Severus pulled his knees up, pushing back against Harry’s firm, wet tongue. Harry groaned, fingers pressing hard into the man’s skin, tongue circling and spearing further. One hand reached between Severus’ thighs to caress the man’s scrotum.

He was intent on making the man remember him. If this must be the last time, then he would leave the man with little doubt as to where Harry’s heart would remain. Communicating this verbally wouldn’t help. It was too late for such discourse. Harry was seized with a desire to make the man his. His for tonight.

Severus groaned as Harry slipped two fingers into the spit-slick hole. While he wasn’t quite as adept as Severus, he was vaguely aware of the anatomy of things and after very little time, found what he was searching for. Despite Severus’ insistence that Harry just get on with it, Harry took things slowly. Severus would take time to recover and Harry wouldn’t get on with anything until he had. He alternated fucking the man with his fingers and teasing him with his tongue, taking care to excite the round pale cheeks with the occasional kiss, brush of teeth. His hand closed around Severus’ slowly awakening arousal.

When Severus reached a semi-hard state, Harry applied the constricting charm. “Harry?” Severus breathed in question.

“We’re doing this together,” Harry explained, confident that despite his own painfully hard erection, with the charm under Severus’ control, he’d be able to last as long as necessary. The charm in place, Harry began stroking the man to hardness, fucking him with his fingers. Severus swelled quickly under the effects of the spell and was soon bucking back into Harry’s attentions. 

“Now,” he ordered.

Harry smiled and raised himself up. “Turn over,” he said, summoning the Muggle lube and squirting the gloopy stuff over his hand. Severus arranged himself on his back, legs bent and open. Waiting. Their eyes met and Harry chest constricted. “Mine,” he told him with a small smile before hooking his arms under Severus’ knees. Severus closed his eyes and lifted his hips.

Harry bit down hard on his lip as he pushed inside, clenching his jaw against a shout as his overly sensitive and swollen cock breached the choking tightness. He watched Severus. The man’s mouth fell open, tongue darting to wet his lips. His brow furrowed as Harry rocked himself in to the root. He leant forward, kissing the man softly. I love you, his brain screamed. “You’re amazing,” his mouth interpreted.

Severus squeezed around him in response. Harry’s breath left him in a hot puff. Movement, when he finally managed it, was almost painful. Every inch of his cock was engorged and hyper-sensitive. He focussed his mind on maintaining a slow pace and strategic angle. His hand worked over the other man’s cock with a vigour that clashed with the slow steadiness of his hips.

Severus breathed through an open mouth. His eyes, half-open, watched Harry watch him until Harry had to close his eyes to search inwardly for control. Every movement was agonizing pleasure, exquisite torture. Harry was growing desperate for release, and every firm thrust inward brought him to the brink of an unsatisfied climax. Judging by the other man’s breathing, Severus would be coming to meet him. Severus’ hand insinuated itself under Harry’s own, taking up the work and leaving Harry to pick up the pace. He would be slightly embarrassed later at the memory of how vocal he became, but lost in the moment of his drive toward ecstasy, he thought of nothing. His mind took up a silent prayer. Come Severus. Come with me. Tell me when.

At long last his prayer was answered. Severus shouted “Finite Incantatem”, with Harry a mere syllable behind before both men froze, suspended in their collective release that seem to go on for an eternity before Harry was liberated. He went forward to bury his face into Severus’ neck, panting as his body spasmed with every pulse of his tortured cock.

He didn’t think he could ever move again. He was suddenly overcome with fatigue and weariness and a host of other emotions that had wracked him over the past few months. He felt he would cry... or sleep forever. It was sleep that won the battle, and Harry succumbed to a slumber that had become all too elusive over the last few months. He surrendered to its blackness.

“Harry?” Severus whispered, pinned down by the dead weight of the man. He noted the deep steady rhythm of the breaths clouding against his neck, and he snorted. He gently rolled the other man to the bed next to him. He reached for his trousers, his wand, and cleaned them both before relaxing back to the pillow and studying the man’s peaceful and still too boyish face.

He sighed, hating the man for pulling him into this mess. Loving him for the same. He had no delusions as to what might have happened had the man not found himself in his present circumstances. They might have seen each other infrequently, spent wild and creatively pleasurable moments together. The visits would gradually become less frequent. Severus would go mad with jealousy, and the two would end up where they began, spitefully sparring until they lost contact all together.

In the quiet of his mind, Severus could admit to himself that he would gladly have accepted the inevitable end for the chance to experience the rest. It made no sense. The relationship was inappropriate and ill-advised, but profoundly satisfying. Physically, emotionally, and (quelle surprise!) intellectually. Severus loved him. It wasn’t as surprising a revelation as it might have once been. After all the two had been through, after years of obsessing over the boy’s safety. More surprising and far more difficult to get over, was that he sincerely liked the man. He enjoyed his company. Over the past few months he thought about him nearly constantly and craved his presence.

It would have to end now. The potential between them would go unrealised, and Severus was left staring at an empty space in his life that he’d never noticed before. A space that begged to be filled. One that nagged constantly at the edge of his conscious mind until the absence was almost physical. Loneliness, an emotion that Severus hadn’t entertained since... Well, loneliness invaded again, mocking him with eyes as green as the Killing Curse.

Severus rolled onto his back and stared up at his ceiling. He was better off alone, he reminded himself. He cast his mind back to the days when he’d been quite happy with his routine of work and reflection. Thursday nights with the Coven and the odd Saturday night spent in anonymous coupling. It was enough.

It had been enough. And now? Well, it wasn’t worth thinking about. Life would go on as it had always done, and Severus would learn to cherish his self-imposed isolation once more. The Harry-shaped hole in his life would just become one more thing to avoid thinking about.

“Nox,” Severus whispered and then rolled over, wrapping his arm around the naked male body beside him. He’d start forgetting the man tomorrow and enjoy his last night whole.

-o-o-

“It’s time to get up, Harry,” Severus whispered, hand sliding over Harry’s arm before returning to rest around his waist.

“I’m awake,” Harry whispered back, taking the man’s hand and bringing it to his lips. He’d been awake for hours, actually, having woken up with a pit of dread in his gut and a lump in his throat. It took him a second to realise where he was and to recall in whose embrace he was nestled. “Sorry for passing out on you,” he said. He didn’t think he’d ever spoken a more sincere word.

“I should think so,” Severus whispered back. 

Harry felt lips press at the back of his neck. He’d felt sick when he realised the time he’d wasted. Time he’d never get back. “I think you broke me,” he teased.

“Should I apologise?”

Harry snorted. “Never,” he whispered. Would that he could be so broken every day. His stomach tightened again. Never again, his mind told him, even as every other part of him struggled to find a way to hold on to this. “I need to ask you a question,” he breathed. His throat constricted forbiddingly. The question had haunted him as he lay next to the man, listening to the steady breaths, wrapped in the strong warmth of his arms. He was terrified of the response he’d get, but it was only fair to ask.

“I’m waiting,” Severus said when a moment later, Harry was still choking on the next words. 

The younger man took a deep breath to power the words, “Do you want me to leave you alone?” He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the dreaded answer. After what the man had said yesterday, Harry expected an affirmative response. Severus had always been a reluctant but tolerant partner in the imposed arrangement. Harry had kept it up initially because he thought there was wisdom in the Headmaster’s dying wish. Considering everything, however, Harry was no longer so sure. He knew he needed contact with the man. He was absolutely certain of his own interest in maintaining their bizarre relationship. He felt far less assured about Severus’ interest.

His question was met with a silence that made Harry wonder if he’d manage to ask it at all. Harry turned now to face the man and could just make out his eyes glittering in the darkness. “I know what I said yesterday,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel obliged. You don’t owe me anything.” Harry gave a little snort. “If anything I owe you... the choice.” He pulled his lip between his teeth and chewed nervously at the skin.

“The choice,” Severus repeated and then rolled onto his back, leaving Harry bereft of the warmth of the contact. Harry’s heart beat a panicked tattoo against his chest. Please say no, he silently begged.

“What I want is to tie you up and keep you here, keep you safe and use you for my own personal pleasure. Barring that... No, Harry. I don’t want you to leave me alone. Touched though I am by your self-sacrifice, you have already insinuated yourself in this travesty I call a life, and I would be quite put out now to see you disappear.”

Harry was at once elated and completely destroyed by the man’s snarky admission. His eyes stung and his mouth developed a salty film of grief. “Thank you,” he breathed and then kissed the man soundly. Severus grunted in reply but welcomed the man as Harry slid over to cover him. The gratitude that spurred the kiss evolved to need, and soon, Severus was pushing up into Harry with all the desperation of their last moment together. Last chance. Carpe diem.

Their respective finishes were staggered, Harry coming first and Severus following not long after. The afterglow was regrettably short-lived and included a shared shower, each man taking care to wash the other as thoroughly as time allowed.

Once Harry was dressed, he stood in the centre of the room, leaning against the pillar. The sickening ball of anguish had returned in full force, leaving him paralysed. Severus came to meet him, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Well,” the man said quietly. His expression had a guarded look that communicated more than it could hide. 

Harry shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I know I have to go, but... I don’t know how.” He knew what waited for him back home. His fate, such as it was. And he knew with absolute certainty that what he and this man had built would never be the same again. He’d never have this again.

Severus pulled him close, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and resting his head on top of Harry’s. He cleared his throat before saying in a steady voice. “I’m going to kiss you goodbye. And you’ll disapparate. You’ll take the Portkey back to London and meet up with your foolish friends to bid farewell to your bachelorhood. Tomorrow, you’ll be married, and you’ll write to tell me how things went. How beautiful the bride was and how irritating the guests. And when you tell me that all is well, I will know that you wish things were different, but that fate has chosen for us all.” With a deep breath, Severus tipped Harry’s chin up. “Who are we to argue with Fate?” He gave a small smile. Harry swallowed and shut his eyes tightly to gather the strength to look at the man again.

“Farewell, Mr Potter.”

Harry gave a desperate laugh. “Farewell, Severus,” he responded on a breath, knowing that if he put a voice to the words, he would break. Severus pressed his mouth to Harry's, holding close for a long moment before backing away. Harry met the man’s glittering gaze before nodding.

He disappeared with a quiet pop.


End file.
